Sarin Lestrange and the Triwizard Tournament
by autumn midnights
Summary: What if Cedric Diggory wasn't chosen as the Hogwarts champion, but someone else was? Someone from Slytherin. Someone like Sarin Lestrange. Not a Mary-Sue, and not Harry/OC. Now completed.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: We all know the story of the Goblet of Fire. But what if, instead of Cedric Diggory, a different Hogwarts student was chosen? Sarin Lestrange, daughter of infamous Death Eaters Bellatrix and Rodolphus, enters the Triwizard Tournament to win Slytherin some glory under Gryffindor-loving Albus Dumbledore. How will this affect Goblet of Fire as we know it? Will be a multi-chapter fic, spanning the whole book and following it closely. Not a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. The only thing I own is my original characters.

Sarin Lestrange found a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. It was already partially filled, with other Slytherin students in her year Evanna Fawcett, Risa Greengrass, and Mimi Dagworth. The four of them had shared a dormitory since first-year, and although none of them were particularly close, they were relatively friendly with one another. Everyone knew Slytherins didn't have friends, they had allies. They had acquaintances. The girls, all pureblood, respected one another and didn't harass each other, and they would occasionally talk if they were near one another. That was as far as it went.

Sarin flung her trunk into the overhead compartment with a wave of her wand before sitting down beside Evanna. Out of all the girls, she preferred Evanna. Risa was prissy, and Mimi had a habit of bringing up Azkaban, or Death Eaters, or some other topic which made Sarin quite uncomfortable. She didn't like talking about her parents. They had been sent to Azkaban when she was only a toddler, and she had only vague recollections of them, recollections which might not have even been real. She could never be sure if she remembered them, or whether she was making something up in her subconscious based upon the numerous pictures that she had seen.

"Did you hear that Alastor Moody is going to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Evanna asked, leaning forward slightly. She was always eager to impress Mimi, as, being the daughter of two half-bloods, her blood status was not as pure as Mimi, Sarin, or Risa. "The ex-Auror."

"Mad-Eye," Sarin said gruffly. Aurors made her nervous, especially older ones. It was never revealed, anywhere, which Aurors had captured her parents, and she always waited in fear of the day that she would find out. Spending a whole year under the tutelage of an Auror, especially one like him, who was known for being exceptional at his job, although paranoid, would be horrible. Not to mention Aurors tended to have disdain for Slytherins, believing them all to be Dark wizards and witches in training. Which for many, was true, but it was a stereotype that annoyed Sarin to no end.

"Exactly," Evanna said. "He came out of retirement specifically for this job. I think Dumbledore's getting worried."

"About what?" Mimi asked contemptuously. "No one would be stupid enough to attack Hogwarts while he's there. He may be a Gryffindor-loving fool, but he's certainly powerful."

"Yeah, but nobody ever thought Death Eaters would prance around at the Quidditch World Cup, either, did they?" Evanna shot back. "Aurors at every corner, thousands of people…yet they pulled it off and nobody was officially arrested." This was why, Sarin thought dryly, that Evanna and Mimi were always at odds. They egged on the other, it seemed, to argue even further. She exchanged a look with Risa, who was also staying out of it.

"Dumbledore wasn't there, either," Mimi replied. "Besides, they did it late at night, and everybody was either drunk or sleeping. Of course they're not going to get caught. The Ministry is a bunch of idiots, or rather, it's run by an idiot."

"You two can stop arguing," Risa said loftily. "Moody isn't there because Dumbledore's getting worried. He's there because the school is hosting the Triwizard Tournament, and the Headmaster wants a little extra protection. It all makes perfect sense." She ran a hand through her dark brown hair. "I'm definitely not going to attempt it, but someone from Slytherin should. We never get anything, not under Dumbledore, anyway. The champion is selected by an impartial judge- one of us might have a chance."

"Slytherin needs to win something. Do something grand," Mimi agreed. "All the Head Boys and Girls are from the other three houses, it seems, and to top it all off the Boy Who Didn't Die is in Gryffindor. That must escalate Dumbledore's bias."

Sarin snorted derisively. "I bet every single Gryffindor is going to try out. They're always rushing into things, it seems. Probably even the younger kids. Just watch, the Hogwarts champion is probably going to be some third- or fourth-year Gryffindor."

"You should do it, Sarin," Mimi said.

"Why on earth would I do a thing like that? I'm not a bloody Gryffindor, you know." Sarin made a face.

"Who's more likely to get chosen?" Evanna said practically. "You're top at Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense, although you put way more time into learning how to actually perform the Dark Arts than defend against them. You're a reasonable flier. You certainly show the qualities of your house. I'm pretty sure those are all things that you should have to be a champion. Plus, you could win it. You could bring the glory to Slytherin house that hasn't been there since Salazar himself."

"Fine," Sarin said, mainly to shut her up. "I'll try out. Who says I'll get chosen, though. I mean, it's not likely."

"Who cares?" Risa said. "At least you can say you tried, because you know it's going to be a constant thing around the castle, 'did you try' 'did you try'. At least you can say yes, even if you don't make it."

"I suppose you're right. I'm doing this for Slytherin, though. We need something to say for ourselves."

A/N: Next up: Dumbledore's speech at the introduction feast.


	2. Chapter 2, The Triwizard Tournament

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything in the series. I only own Sarin, and any other OC's that I created.

Sarin and the three other girls climbed into the thestral-pulled carriages. They were silent for most of the ride to Hogwarts, having exhausted their conversations, mostly about Sarin entering the tournament, while they were on the train. The idea was still slightly absurd to her, but she did like the idea of making Slytherin proud, and representing Hogwarts. Gryffindors got all the glory underneath Dumbledore, but if this judge was so impartial, like the others said, then she would have just as much of a chance as the others trying out- more, even, if it was true what the others had said, and her talents and house characteristics would be an advantage.

Once the carriage stopped, the four girls hurried inside, unwilling to linger for even a second in the pouring rain. They sat at their table, across from a few sixth- and seventh-year boys who were eyeing them in a manner that suggested their wet robes were clinging to their chests. Sarin was about to tell them off when the Sorting began, and for the most part, the students quieted down. She paid little attention, clapping halfheartedly when somebody joined the sea of green and silver at their table. The first-years didn't concern her at all, apart from Risa's youngest sister Astoria, who had luckily made it into their house.

Once the Sorting was finished, everybody dug into the food with fervor, as if their appetites had been increased due to the rain. It was quite possible that the train had been slower because of the downpour, and as a result it was later than usual. It certainly seemed to be, if the amount of food consumed was any indication. When everyone had finished, and most were groaning as they had had too much to eat, Dumbledore stood up. Everyone fell silent in anticipation of what he was going to say.

He smiled at them all. "So, now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anyone would like to check it."

Ryan Yaxley, one of the boys who had been ogling Sarin and her friends, leaned over the table. "Who would want to ask Filch for anything? He's the most cranky person I've ever seen, and a filthy Squib to boot." Sarin nodded her agreement, but Dumbledore resumed speaking, silencing their conversation.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Exclamations were heard from all four tables, almost all of them less than polite. Sarin, although she didn't play, was just as mad as everyone else. Quidditch was the one chance that Slytherin House had to do something good, to beat Gryffindor in something, for in everything else, the other house was blatantly favored.

Dumbledore spoke above the students. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

At that point, the doors of the Great Hall banged open, while a particularly loud rumble of thunder was heard from outside. A man stood in the entrance to the hall, leaning on a long walking stick. Sarin recognized him instantly as Alastor Moody, the Auror- no, she reminded herself, retired Auror- who was coming to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for the year. He limped toward the teachers' table, shook hands with Dumbledore, and sat down. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody," said the Headmaster, clapping along with Hagrid. Nobody else joined in, however, and they lapsed into silence. Mutterings broke out from every table.

Dumbledore coughed conspicuously and continued his speech. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING," Fred Weasley from Gryffindor said loudly, above everyone else. Almost everyone, even people from Slytherin, chuckled.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," the Headmaster said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun that go into a bar-" A cough from McGonagall cut him off. "Er, but maybe this is not the time, no. Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

Sarin half-listened to his next words. "The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities, until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Durmstrang," Sarin said thoughtfully. "That's the school in the north somewhere that has a much better attitude toward the Dark Arts, is it not?"

"Exactly," Ryan replied. "They actually teach the spells, not this defense trash we learn here. I, for one, plan to pick up some tips when those students arrive. You should, too, if you're so interested." He grinned. "Prove you aren't all talk, Lestrange."

"Fine, then. Once they come, we'll ask one of the students to show us a few things. I'm with you." Sarin couldn't help the flutter of excitement in her chest at the possibility of learning something useful for once. Again, however, she was interrupted by Dumbledore resuming his speech.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

"Well, that's good," Sarin muttered.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons prize money."

"I don't care about the prize," Sarin said to Ryan, imagining the Lestranges' illustrious vault at Gringotts, which she had access to, "but bringing glory to Slytherin House, showing I'm not all talk, as you so wonderfully put it…"

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age, that is to say, seventeen years or older, will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."

"Well, that's fine by me," Sarin said. "Lessens the field quite a bit. I'm turning seventeen in October, so it doesn't matter."

"This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." Dumbledore glanced toward the Gryffindor table, which had the greatest amount of irritated faces.

"I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year.""Good amount of time to convince one of them into teaching us," Ryan muttered to Sarin.

"I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore finally sat down and began talking to Moody, who was on his right side. There was a multitude of loud scraping sounds as all the students arose from their seats and hurried toward the doors to the entrance hall, where they began dispersing into their various common rooms. At that time, Mimi and Ryan left the other Slytherin sixth-years, as, being prefects, they had to take care of the first-years.

Once in the dormitory, Sarin undressed quickly and hopped into bed, thoughts of the tournament still swirling around. The playing field had just been cut drastically, with the of-age limit now placed, and the chances of her making it in were now even higher. There would be a lot less students who would be trying out, then, although she knew many underage would still try. She didn't doubt, however, that Dumbledore would take extra care with his precautions, and make definite that no student who was not seventeen would enter.

It was perfect, really. Most of the seventh-years, who were all seventeen or, even in the case of a few, turning eighteen, would no doubt enter. As far as sixth-years, she knew of a few who had early birthdays and would be of age, but she doubted there was even seven or eight of them. The other schools made no difference to her, as they would have no effect on who the Hogwarts champion was. The only interesting thing about the other schools was the possibility, or hopefully, probability, of learning Dark magic from one of the Durmstrang students.

With that thought, Sarin relaxed into her pillow and fell asleep.

A/N: Dumbledore's speech is taken directly from GoF, Chapter 12, The Triwizard Tournament. Next up: The sixth-years have a DADA lesson with Moody


	3. MadEye Moody The Unforgivable Curses

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. I don't think I ever will.

A/N: I am so sorry that I didn't post this sooner. I had a crazy weekend, and I had no time. Updates from now on should come sooner (every other day or so).

Sarin wasn't exactly looking forward to her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Moody. She rarely looked forward to that class, for that matter, having only kept it after OWLs for the excuse to check books out from the Restricted Section of the library . She was much more interested in learning the actual Dark Arts than how to defend against them, but of course, that could never happen at Hogwarts. Unfortunately.

She sighed and entered the classroom. DADA was a popular class, and almost everyone in her year had still kept it after they had taken their OWLs. That wasn't a bad thing, she supposed, as the amount of people would make it more difficult for the Auror to pick on her. She could almost hear the comments about her parents now. It was usually not that bad for her, being the child of Death Eaters. The Muggle-borns didn't know of the Lestranges, those that did know generally stayed out of her way, and those from her house found it normal.

All the students were there, sitting in their seats, before Moody entered. The Weasley twins, sitting in the row directly behind Sarin and Ryan, who had snagged a seat next to her, were dueling with fake wands that kept turning into rubber fish, making most of the other students laugh. They stopped, though, when Moody loped to the front of the classroom.

"Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm only here for one year, as a favor to Dumbledore." His voice was gravelly and reminded Sarin of a growl. "Then I'm out. I have one year to teach you, so I expect you all to pay attention, and not be playing with joke products under the desk, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley!"

Sarin twisted around to see the twins, red-faced, put the fake wands, now in the form of rubber fish, back in their bags. She couldn't help but smirk.

"Now, I'll be teaching you about a lot of stuff that was only hinted at in previous years. Curses, mostly, but we'll probably touch on more advanced Dark creatures such as Dementors and Inferi. Now, I assume that all of you know what the Unforgivable Curses are?"

Sarin stiffened. She would normally have been scribbling furiously already, eager to touch on the subject not even mentioned in classes beforehand, but the fact that an Auror was teaching it made it much worse, as it put him in a perfect position to bring up Death Eaters, and, by connection, her parents. All around her students were nodding, apart from clueless Mudblood Hufflepuff Beatrice Cooper, a fat girl with square, thick glasses, and Montague from her own house, who was dozing off on his desk already.

"Most students do already, by this age, but it's on the course list for sixth year, so I figured we'd cover it first, since most of you already know it." He flicked his wand in Montague's direction, and the burly boy toppled out of his chair. It was a couple seconds before he got up, rubbing his head and looking rather confused. "I will not tolerate people sleeping in my class. Now, who can give me one of the curses?" All the students, apart from Beatrice, raised their hands. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. Show us you know more than how to duel with a fish."

The twins didn't even look embarrassed at the fish comment, probably happy that their fake wands were getting advertised in front of others. Sarin wasn't sure which Weasley was which, but that one of them said, "The Imperius Curse," a little too loudly before muttering something to the other.

"Correct. The Imperius Curse, incantation _Imperio, _is the first Unforgivable Curse, and one that many people underestimate. A victim of this curse is completely subject to the will of the caster. A few people can fight it off, but it takes great strength of will. Now…" He pulled a jar from his desk drawer. Sarin could see that there was a large spider sitting in it. Moody tipped the spider onto his left hand, pointed his wand at it, and whispered, "_Imperio!"_

Now Sarin leaned forward, watching very closely as Moody controlled the spider, causing it to jump from desk to desk. Surreptitiously, in small handwriting, she noted the wand movements needed before covering what she had just written with her arm, not wanting anyone else to see. Ryan, on her right, wouldn't have cared- he seemed to be doing the same thing, in fact- but Autumn Jasper of Ravenclaw, a Muggle-born who constantly spoke out against Dark things, definitely would not have approved, and she was sitting on Sarin's left.

Moody returned the spider to his jar, placed the lid back on, although loosely, and turned to the class. "Can anyone give me the next curse?" Once again, almost everyone raised their hands, including, this time, Montague, who was now awake. "Ah, Miss…Lestrange, is it?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Go ahead."

"The Cruciatus Curse," she said, mentally daring someone to say something. There was no insults from the Gryffindors, like she expected, although there was a mumble from the back that she could not quite decipher. She twisted around in her seat again, looking for the culprit, but at that point Moody began speaking, and she faced forward.

"The Cruciatus Curse. Causes immeasurable agony to the victim, so much so that if exposed to the curse for long enough, the person will go mad." Sarin balled her hands into fists. "Death Eaters have done this to…people." He took the spider out again, enlarged it, and muttered, louder than the previous curse, "_Crucio!_"

Again Sarin noted the movements necessary, staring in morbid fascination as the animal writhed and twitched under the spell, obviously in a lot of pain. Some of the more squeamish students, including Beatrice, weren't watching at all but were staring at their desks, or even blatantly covering their eyes. Autumn half-rose from her seat, shouting at the teacher to stop.

Moody's concentration was broken, and he again enclosed the spider in the jar used for that purpose. "Can anyone give me the last curse?"

Ryan was barely called on before the words tumbled out, "_Avada Kedavra."_ Numerous students looked away uneasily, and Sarin allowed a small smile to creep across her features. Wimps, she thought, glancing at the people in front of her.

"Correct. The Killing Curse, completely self-explanatory. Instant death." He opened the lid for the last time, and the spider scuttled around, trying to avoid Moody's grasping fingers, as if it knew what was coming for it. He set the spider on the table and pointed his wand at it. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Ryan and Sarin met up outside the classroom once the class was finished. "Interesting lesson- nothing we didn't already know, of course, but to perform the curses in class…that teacher's got some guts." He waved the parchment at Sarin. It was almost identical to her own, apart from the different methods of wording, and their two separate handwritings. "What do you say…we go over this at some point?" He spoke quietly, although there was nobody around to hear them. Moody had been the first to leave, clumping right out, and everyone else had dispersed quickly.

"Yeah. Totally." Sarin couldn't suppress a thrill of excitement. She had tried a few minor things before, things that, in some context, would be considered Dark, but not so much so as something like this would be. It was risky, certainly, but they would certainly be careful, and, if Moody's lesson was any indication, there was no detectors on the school that would give them away. It wouldn't hurt, however, to be safe. "How about the forest? Very private."

"Good idea. I know a good place. I've wandered around in there a few times."

"Good. Just- we'll have to check that there's no centaurs or anything. I don't think they'd take too kindly to us performing…" She lowered her voice. "Dark Arts in their territory."

"It's completely secluded. Nobody's been there in ages. No footprints or, for that matter, hoof prints. Can you get a book from the Restricted Section?"

"You do it. Everyone looks at me funny when I want to go in there, thanks to the whole parents-in-Azkaban-for-lots-of-crimes thing."

Ryan nodded. "Okay. How about this weekend, we meet up?"

"See you then," she said, and as she left, she felt a fluttering in her chest that, quite possibly, had absolutely nothing to do with the Dark Arts they were going to be practicing.

A/N: This one was fun to write, lol. I have one coming up, not sure exactly when, that I know is going to be super fun. Anyway, if you read, please review. I thrive on them.


	4. Chapter 4, The Dark Arts

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Again.

It was late Saturday afternoon before Ryan and Sarin managed to meet up. In one hand Sarin held, very firmly, a fidgety toad that was obviously trying to escape. "Bought it off a second-year," she said proudly. "He said it was too jumpy. I can kind of see what he means." She glared balefully at the toad. "Stupid animal's tried to escape four times already."

"I've got the book," Ryan said, gesturing to the parcel under his arm. It was wrapped in a cloak so that no passersby could see the title, which was probably rather revealing of what no doubt lay within. "Let's go. I know exactly where."

"Okay." Sarin trotted after him, heading outside as the crisp breeze ruffled her dark hair. Ryan was a very fast walker, and it seemed as though he was even faster when he did not want to be seen. They dodged behind a tree in order to avoid a pudgy fourth-year exiting one of the greenhouses- he looked vaguely familiar to Sarin, but she could not remember where she had seen him, as she didn't often associate with younger students- before continuing into the forest.

Sarin had only been in here a couple of times before, when she was taking Care of Magical Creatures, which she had dropped this year, as she found Hagrid to be a rather pathetic teacher. She had never wandered around in here by herself, however. She knew that all manner of creatures lived within these trees, many of them not-so-friendly. Going in the forest with Ryan was not much better than going alone, as he would not know what to do any more than she did.

She shook those pessimistic thoughts out of her head, as she was becoming rather nervous, which was not the best emotion to have when preparing to practice Dark magic for the official first time. They had decided to try a little before asking one of the Durmstrang students, as they did not want to appear completely new to the field. Since the Durmstrang students were arriving the next month, they had better get a move on.

They came to a peaceful clearing. The trees shaded them from the sun, but let enough light through so that they could see everything quite easily. It looked undisturbed, with, as Ryan had said, no prints of either human or animal, and no other evidence, such as trampled grasses or sticks, either. In fact, it seemed as though nobody had ever been in here. "How did you find this?" Sarin marveled, grabbing at the toad as it attempted, once again, to escape. "It's perfect."

"Care of Magical Creatures. Slipped away from the class, back in third year, and I've been checking up on this place ever since. Now, let's start looking. And do something with that blasted animal." Ryan sat down on the ground and unwrapped his book. At the same time, Sarin conjured a jar and stuffed the toad inside, poking air holes in the lid. It wouldn't do for it to die from suffocation before they even got to practice anything.

The book was black, with a leathery cover, on which the words 'The Dark Arts' were printed in a silvery, elegant font. It wasn't particularly thick, to her disappointment, but of course, she automatically assumed, they would get another book once this was somewhat complete, and look things up in there. She sat down as well, close enough to Ryan that she could easily read along as he looked at the table of contents page. Many of the things listed she hadn't even heard of, which was mildly annoying. She had thought her knowledge of Dark things was somewhat impressive. Apparently not.

Pushing her irritation to the side, she glanced up at Ryan. "What first?"

"I don't know. It isn't exactly organized in level of difficulty." She could detect a note of sarcasm in his tone. "I don't even know of some of these. Also, I'm just curious how we're going to practice once we've killed the toad." The sarcasm had disappeared, although now he sounded unsure of himself. "I mean, a lot of this stuff is fatal, or close to it. We're not going to be able to practice everything on the same animal."

"Nor are we going to be able to buy all the younger kids' animals," she said. "Maybe things from the forest? Not magical creatures, but…birds and things. Surely there's regular things in here as well." She glanced at the toad. "How about if we work on the non-fatal stuff first. Like the Imperius Curse, that can't kill. Besides, we're not going to learn something in one day."

"Okay." Ryan flipped to the correct page. "The Imperius Curse is most commonly known as the first Unforgivable Curse. A victim of this curse is completely under the caster's will, and is subject to whatever the latter wishes him or her to do. Few people can resist the curse, as it takes intense strength of will that few people, not even many Aurors, have. Well, we already knew all that, didn't we?" he muttered, turning the page.

Sarin picked up where he had left off. "People wishing to practice the curse would be best off doing it on, for starters, an animal that has no magical qualities, as these cannot resist the curse at all, and any troubles that may occur are as a result of the caster and not of the victim. And then it just details the wand movements, which we already know from Moody's class." She pulled the parchment out of her pocket. "I suppose we're ready to start, then."

"You can go first," Ryan said. "I want to look through this for a couple minutes."

"Thanks." Sarin lazily summoned the jar with a flick of her wand and tipped the toad into her hand. It wasn't easy to aim at it, seeing as it was still trying to escape, and she had to hold it rather tightly. Finally, she gave up, pointed her wand in the general direction, and said, quietly so as to not attract too much attention, "_Imperio!"_ An odd feeling spread down her arm and through her wand. The toad had stopped attempting its escape and was now sitting quite docilely on Sarin's hand.

_Jump onto Ryan,_ she thought to it, not completely sure how this worked. The toad somewhat obeyed, hopping off her hand and onto Ryan's arm before taking a few slow, unsteady leaps in the direction of the trees. She managed to catch it, returning it to her hand.

Ryan and Sarin stayed in the woods for close to two hours, practicing the Imperius Curse, and by the time they were done, both could control the toad for a short time, although they could not make it do anything out of the ordinary, such as a somersault (Sarin's attempt) or croaking the national anthem (Ryan's attempt). When they decided they were finally done, they cautiously crept out of the forest, looking around for any students or, even worse, teachers. Thankfully, there were none, and they made it back to the Slytherin common room with no problems.

"Next weekend?" Sarin asked quietly, not wanting anybody to overhear.

"That's fine." Ryan pushed the book a little deeper into the folds of his robes. "I'll keep the toad until then, if that's okay with you."

"Sure." She glanced over as the door opened and Evanna stepped out, waving her over. "I gotta go. See you."

"Bye."

"What was going on?" Evanna narrowed her eyes. "Are you and him…"

"No." She couldn't help the faint blush that spread across her cheeks, and hoped the other girl did not notice. "We were just doing some schoolwork together. Nothing interesting." She sidestepped her friend, one hand already on the door heading to the dormitories. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"I was meeting someone," Evanna said vaguely before hurrying off. Sarin shrugged and made her way into the dormitory, brushing the encounter out of her mind. She had more important things to focus on- like, for instance, actually writing an essay or two, as she hadn't gotten anything done so far that day- but she couldn't concentrate on that, either. Her thoughts were with Ryan, in the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't get it out of her mind. It was confusing…and yet also exhilarating.

A/N: So. Ryan/Sarin keeps popping in there- I never intended for this to have any hint of real romance, in fact, but now that it's there…Anyway, that's still not going to be the main focus of this story. Next up we're back to official canon, as the students arrive from other schools.


	5. Chapter 5, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

Disclaimer: I'm on a website called FANFICTION. Do the math.

The next couple of weeks passed without anything interesting occurring, although Sarin did sneak back to the Forbidden Forest a few times with Ryan to practice the Imperius Curse on the toad, improving more and more each time. Her birthday also passed, making her seventeen and finally of age, one of the first students in the sixth-year class to do so, something she didn't hesitate to bring up, especially when other students were irritating her. Which, of course, was a common occurrence, as many of the Gryffindor students were rather ticked off about the possibility of their champion being a Slytherin daughter of Death Eaters, and would often try hexing her in the corridors, which usually didn't end too well for them.

The rest of October also flew by, especially once the notice was posted that said the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students would be arriving on the 30th of October. The castle was filled with an air of nervous excitement and tension, both inside and outside their classes. Teachers were working overtime to make sure the castle was in tiptop shape, and students with even one toe out of line were lectured severely about behavior, and that if they did such a thing in front of people from a different school, they would get way worse.

On the 30th, which was a clear-skied, brisk Friday, all the students assembled in the Entrance Hall, where the Heads of Houses formed them into lines . Sarin was directly behind Risa and in front of Montague, a thick-headed boy in her year who definitely had more brawn than brains. The students all then filed outside onto the steps, keeping a semblance of order, so that they could wait for the delegations from the foreign schools to arrive.

They waited for several minutes before there was any sign, and then Dumbledore, from the back where he stood with the other teachers, called out, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches."

This, of course, caused all the students to look around wildly for the unknown people, whose mode of transportation they, as of yet, had no idea. It was Risa, in fact, who spotted it first. "There!" she shouted above everyone else, pointing above the Forbidden Forest to a large object flying toward them. As it came closer the students could see it was a gigantic horse-drawn carriage, dozens of times larger than the thestral-pulled carriages of Hogwarts.

The front students stumbled backward as the carriage came lower, not slowing down at all but landing, instead, causing most students to jump as the huge amount of weight hit the ground and caused a tremendous thud. The door of the carriage opened barely three seconds later, and a boy jumped out and unfolded from the floor a set of steps. The boy backed away as an immensely tall woman stepped out. She was easily Hagrid's height, with olive skin, dark eyes, and tightly pulled back hair. Dumbledore clapped, and the students, following his example, also applauded.

"That is one big woman," Sarin muttered to Risa as Dumbledore kissed the woman's hand. Risa stifled a chuckle as Dumbledore began speaking.

"My dear Madame Maxime, welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," the tall woman- Madame Maxime- said, her voice thick with a French accent. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore replied. Although the two adults were not talking exceptionally loudly, the students were so quiet that nearly all of them, including Sarin, could hear the conversation that was taking place.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime said, as about a dozen boys and girls, all around the age of seventeen or possibly eighteen, stepped down from the carriage, all dressed in fine silk robes that did nothing to shield them from the sharp October air. " 'As Karkaroff arrived yet?"

"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore answered her. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," Madame Maxime said. It was obvious that the Beauxbatons students had not been anticipating the coolness of the air, or they would have worn warmer clothes. "But ze 'orses…"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher would be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore said, muffling a snort from Sarin and a few of the other Slytherins. "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other-er- charges." Sarin rolled her eyes, wondering what it was this time. Acromantula in the forest, illegally-bred creatures in his yard…

"My steeds require, er, forceful handling," Madame Maxime said with a doubtful look on her face, interrupting Sarin's train of thought. "Zey are very strong."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job." Dumbledore smiled.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"Wish I only drank whiskey," muttered Montague.

"It will be attended to," replied Dumbledore.

"Come," said Madame Maxime to her students, leading them up the steps and into the castle. The crowd of students parted to allow them through.

The students then resumed looking around for any sign of Durmstrang's arrival, still rather silent, which was unusual in itself for such a large group. This quiet enabled them, then, to hear a rumbling noise that seemed to be coming from the lake. A few more seconds passing enabled this suspicion of Sarin's, as bubbles were forming on the surface and waves started crashing upon the shore. Lee Jordan, a fellow sixth-year, pointed down at it. "The lake!" he shouted. "Look at the lake!"

A pole then rose out of the center of the lake, but it was soon shown to be more than a pole- it was the mast of a large ship, which slowly drifted toward the bank, its skeletal form becoming more pronounced as it came closer. As it reached the shoreline, the splash of an anchor was heard, and, barely half a minute later, people began disembarking. They had come better prepared for the weather- these students were all wearing shaggy fur cloaks that shielded them well, and also gave them all the appearance of being either rather fat or heavily muscled. Leading them was a tall man wearing silver fur that matched his hair.

"Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore said.

"Dear old Hogwarts, how good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold." Karkaroff gestured for one of his students to come forward, into the light pouring out from the Entrance Hall. The student had dark hair and eyebrows, and a prominent nose. It was obvious, even to someone like Sarin who didn't follow Quidditch, who this person was.

Risa turned around to face Sarin. "It's Krum! Viktor Krum is here at Hogwarts!"

A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review. Next up, the Goblet Of Fire.


	6. Chapter 6, The Goblet of Fire

Disclaimer: Do I own Harry Potter? *checks* Nope, still don't.

The students from Durmstrang headed up the steps, closely followed by the Hogwarts people, most of whom were now heatedly discussing the presence of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker on the national Quidditch team, at their school. Mimi turned out her pockets, which were empty. "Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me."

"Do you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?" Risa said frantically, glancing over at Sarin, who was waiting patiently for the crowd to disperse slightly, and not paying any attention to their predicament as the two began quarreling over who should ask him, and who should get the lipstick.

"_Really,"_ a fourth-year Gryffindor said as she passed them, rolling her eyes. It was obvious the girl, whoever she was, did not care at all about Krum's presence, rather like Sarin in that respect. Sarin knew who Krum was, and would admit that he was an excellent flier, but she had never been particularly interested in Quidditch for herself, much less watching other people play.

Sarin managed to sneak ahead and sit down at the Slytherin table ahead of almost anyone else, allowing her to see the commotion. The Beauxbatons students sat at the Ravenclaw table almost immediately, but the Durmstrang crew stood, unsure of themselves, near the doorway. After a few more minutes of deliberation, they chose seats at the Slytherin table, to the happiness of everyone at that table. She saw that Ryan had managed to sit down between two Durmstrang students, and was engaging them in conversation, hopefully about the practice they had discussed earlier.

At some point the teachers must have filed in, although Sarin, too busy attempting to eavesdrop on the Durmstrang students, had not noticed. Dumbledore began speaking once again. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and most particularly, guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable." He ignored the derisive laugh from one of the Beauxbatons girls, who was clutching a scarf around her head. "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."

The meal, for Sarin, was not enjoyable, as the people sitting on either side of her were Risa and Mimi, whose only focus seemed to be on Viktor Krum, something they insisted on telling her multiple times over. Numerous times she attempted to catch Ryan's eye, but he was always looking at one of the two foreign students sitting next to him. They appeared to be having an interesting conversation, she thought, wishing she was over there instead, discussing Dark Arts (hopefully) with them rather than listening to her dorm-mates blather on about Krum.

Once everyone was done supper, and to Sarin's relief, Dumbledore stood up and commenced yet another speech. "The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket-"

"Yeah, you better," Sarin muttered, wondering what the casket was needed for.

"just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," at which there was polite applause. Sarin, however, was staring at the man in shock. Crouch. Bartemius bloody Crouch was here, the same person who had sent her parents to Azkaban for the rest of their lives. She fixed him with a glare, but he did not appear to notice.

"Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." The applause for Bagman was much greater, presumably because of his fame as a Beater several years back. Sarin joined in, having no grudge against this man, unlike the other.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch-" Sarin fought the childish temptation to stick her tongue out- "have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts." The students, if it was possible, grew even more quiet at the mention of the word 'champions'. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch approached Dumbledore carrying a large wooden chest, covered with jewels of all different types. It was quite beautiful, if one liked that sort of thing, and seemed to be immensely old. "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways- their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and of course, their ability to cope with danger."

"You better get this," Mimi whispered to Sarin. "You will seriously kick some Beauxbatons arse- they look like wimps, the lot of them."

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore tapped his wand on the surface of the casket, causing the lid to open. He reached inside and pulled out a large, wooden cup, which would have been completely unremarkable if it were not full of blue-white fire. He closed the casket lid and placed the cup- the Goblet of Fire, obviously- on top, where it could be then seen by every person in the Great Hall, students and staff alike.

"Anyone wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

"I'm going after curfew," Sarin whispered. "I can just imagine the Gryffindors trying to stop me from entering, thanks to the rivalry, not to mention who my parents are. Imagine the uproar from them if a Lestrange is the champion?"

"It would be great," Mimi muttered back, but at that point Dumbledore resumed speaking and they could not talk anymore.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."

There was a few disappointed groans from the underage students, but the Headmaster cut them short. "Finally, I wish to impress on any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name into the goblet constitutes a binding magical contract."

"Like an Unbreakable Vow," Sarin murmured.

"There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

The students began to disperse. Sarin hurried out quickly, not eager to see Mimi and Risa attempt to fawn over Krum to his face, rather than whispering about him behind his back. She needed to sleep for a couple hours, before returning to set her name into the goblet. It would be so much better, if she did become the Hogwarts champion, for it to be a surprise to everyone.

She fell asleep almost as soon as she threw herself onto her bed, and because of the early time she entered sleep, woke up at 3 or so in the morning, quite awake. She tore a piece of parchment off of the bottom of her essay and, with her best quill, wrote with slightly shaking fingers, '_Sarin Lestrange, Hogwarts_'. Tucking the parchment into her pocket, she grabbed her wand and made her way down to the Entrance Hall.

The Age Line had already been drawn, but, as she was seventeen, it did nothing to stop her progress as she reached up and lightly tossed the parchment inside. The flames glowed red for a moment, spitting sparks that she jumped back to avoid, and then returned to the blue-white coloring that it had had at the feast. She quietly retreated out of the circle, freezing when she saw a large shape making its way toward her. "Lestrange?" the figure grunted. " 'S me, Warrington."

"Oh," she gasped, still a bit startled. "You're of age?"

"Yeah." He slipped his name in as well- Sarin was mildly surprised that he actually could write- and left first. She hurried after him, back to her common room, then to her dormitory, where she fell again into a peaceful, dreamless, sleep.

The next day, Saturday, Halloween, passed by torturously slowly for Sarin, who was waiting eagerly for the announcement of the champions at the feast. She knew that it would be a letdown if she was not selected, yet she could not seem to curb her enthusiasm. Looking around at the other students gathered around as she entered the Great Hall at long last for the dinner feast, she saw they were all excitable as well, waiting anxiously to see the selection.

When the feast was over, Dumbledore stood up, and the students quieted instantly. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through to the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He pulled his wand from his pocket and waved it around, extinguishing almost all the candles and leaving them in a state of darkness, although a few remained so that a little could be seen. The Goblet of Fire was even more noticeable in this state, shining its blue-white light even more brightly over the students, having been brought into the Great Hall earlier that day. Barely a minute later, the flames of the goblet turned red, and a charred piece of parchment fluttered out towards Dumbledore, who caught it.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum," he read by the light of the flames, turned back to their original color. Applause swept the hall as Krum, not looking extremely surprised, headed toward the small antechamber behind the staff table. The flames turned red again, and another piece of parchment shot out.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour," he read. A girl with silvery-blonde hair stood up and also headed in that direction, leaving most of the boys to stare after her. She vaguely resembled a Veela, Sarin noted.

The Goblet of Fire yet again turned its flames red, and the last piece of parchment drifted out into Dumbledore's awaiting hand. Sarin- and most of the students, it seemed- held her breath as she and the others awaited the result. Who was it going to be?

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Sarin Lestrange."


	7. Chapter 7, The Four Champions

Disclaimer: Is it really necessary in front of each chapter? I think you all know by now, dear readers.

The whole Slytherin table burst into loud applause, deafening in the enclosed area of the Great Hall. A little less than half of the Ravenclaws were clapping, although not as excitedly, as were the Hufflepuffs, and almost nobody from the Gryffindor table was clapping. Dumbledore seemed less than enthused himself- stupid Gryffindor prejudice- but Sarin didn't let that deter her for one minute. She stood up and strolled past him into the antechamber behind, where Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were already waiting.

They both nodded at her, and she nodded back before also standing near the fireplace to warm herself up. Barely two minutes had passed before a skinny, dark-haired fourth-year poked his head into the room and slowly entered. It took a couple seconds before Sarin recognized him as Harry Potter. He looked awkwardly at them.

"What is it?" Fleur asked. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

Potter didn't answer, but continued staring at the three champions as Ludo Bagman entered the room. "Extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary! Ladies, gentleman…may I introduce, incredible though it may seem…the fourth Triwizard Champion?"

"No!" Sarin gasped. Dumbledore. It had to be him- something he pulled out of his arse when the champion turned out to be a Slytherin and not one of his precious Gryffindors. There was no way that this was even possible, that this was allowed. It would be completely unfair if it was.

"Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman," Fleur said, tossing her hair arrogantly.

"Joke? No, no, not at all. Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire."

"He can't compete!" Sarin exclaimed, glaring at the boy, who stared blankly back.

" 'E is too young," Fleur said contemptuously.

"Well…it is amazing," Bagman said. Sarin rolled her eyes- that was certainly not the word that she would have chosen to describe this situation. "But as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet- I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage…it's down in the rules, you're obliged. Harry will just have to do the best he-"

But at this point Bagman was cut off by a group of people entering the room-Dumbledore, Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Instantly Fleur rushed over to her headmistress. "Madame Maxime, zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

At that point both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff began besieging Dumbledore with questions, asking why this had occurred, and how it was most certainly not in the rules for the host school to have two champions instead of one. Sarin was tempted to join in, but refrained, namely because Professor Snape, her head of house, had given her a stern look that was obviously interpreted as 'be quiet'.

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff. Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here-" Snape was abruptly interrupted by Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Severus," the Headmaster said firmly, glancing down at Harry Potter. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?"

"No," the boy replied.

"Did you ask an older student to put it in the Goblet of Fire for you?"

"No," the boy replied more firmly this time. Sarin snorted, but nobody apart from Krum even glanced her way. The Durmstrang champion looked at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the floor.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying," Madame Maxime cried. Sarin couldn't agree more.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House and Transfiguration teacher, said snappishly. "I am sure we have all agreed on that."

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line." Madame Maxime shrugged.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore, although the look in his eyes suggested otherwise, that he was as confused about this situation as was everybody else.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well that you did not make a mistake!" McGonagall was almost yelling now. "Really, what nonsense. Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

"Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice smooth, "you are our objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular."

Crouch, half hidden by shadow, spoke brusquely. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," Bagman said with an air of finality, turning to the others as if the matter was completely settled at that point.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students. You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It is only fair, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said, dropping the smooth voice.

"But Karkaroff, it won't work like that. The Goblet of Fire's just gone out, and it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament," Bagman replied.

"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Krum flinched at his headmaster's outburst. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

The door opened and a figure stepped inside, growling, "Empty threat, Karkaroff. You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?" The figure stepped closer to the fire, and Sarin could see that it was Moody.

"Convenient? I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." Karkaroff looked baffled.

"Don't you?" Moody said in a dangerously quiet voice. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'ogwarts two bites at ze apple," Madame Maxime said.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime." Karkaroff gave her a slight bow. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards-"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," interrupted Moody. "but funny thing, I don't hear him saying a word."

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur stamped her foot. " 'E 'as ze chance to compete! We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money- zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," Moody said ominously.

"Moody, old man, what a thing to say!" Ludo Bagman bounced up and down.

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime." Sarin suppressed a snort at Karkaroff's statement. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" Moody said. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet…"

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madame Maxime looked rather exasperated.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object! It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament. I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to ensure that he was the only one in his category…"

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff, which was exactly what Sarin had been thinking at the time. "and a very ingenious theory it is, although, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing that it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage." Moody's voice was menacing. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do"- his eyes flicked toward Sarin for the briefest of seconds- "as you ought to remember."

"Alastor!" reprimanded Dumbledore. Karkaroff's face was tinged pink as Moody fell silent. "How this situation arose, we do not know," Dumbledore said, addressing everyone. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Sarin and Harry have been chosen to compete in the tournament. This, therefore, they will do-"

"Ah, but, Dumbly-dorr…"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

The Frenchwoman did not speak, but glared at Dumbledore. She wasn't the only one; both Snape and Karkaroff also looked furious. Bagman, however, looked remotely excited. "Well, shall we crack on, then? Got to give our champions the instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch snapped back to attention. "Yes, instructions. Yes…the first task…The first task is designed to test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is." He moved forward slightly; Sarin could see that he did not look well. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and his skin looked pale. "Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard. The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and a panel of judges."

He paused a moment before continuing. "The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests." Ignoring Sarin's slight cheer of joy, he turned to Dumbledore. "I think that's all, isn't it, Albus?"

"I think so. Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry. It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment. I've left young Weatherby in charge." Sarin was unsure why a slight smile crossed Potter's face at the mention of Weatherby. "Very enthusiastic…a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?"

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying," said Bagman joyfully. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," Crouch said impatiently.

"Professor Karkaroff-Madame Maxime- a nightcap?" asked Dumbledore, but he received no response. Madame Maxime hurried Fleur out of the room, muttering in rapid French. Karkaroff and Krum too, exited. "Sarin, Harry, I suggest you go up to bed. I am sure Gryffindor and Slytherin are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Potter glanced over at Sarin; she gave him a curt nod, and they left the antechamber and went into the now-deserted Great Hall. "How did you even get in?" Sarin demanded.

"I didn't put it in," Harry argued, glancing up at her. "I was telling the truth!"

"Ah…whatever." Sarin fought the urge to roll her eyes as she left him and headed down to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. Like expected, most of the students were crammed into the room. Most of the older students were sipping Firewhiskey, while the younger students drank butterbeer. Sarin plopped on a large, comfortable armchair that had been saved for her by Mimi and Ryan.

"The real champion of Hogwarts," an arrogant-looking fourth-year with a pinched face said. "To Sarin Lestrange."

Everybody echoed the toast. "To the real champion of Hogwarts, Sarin Lestrange."

A/N: A bit longer than the other chapters. Some of them might be quite long from now on, even more so than this, unless I split them up. We learn what Sarin's wand is, which I spent about an hour researching.


	8. Chapter 8, The Weighing of the Wands

Disclaimer: I think you know by now that Harry Potter is not mine.

Sarin groaned and rolled over before realizing that she had fallen asleep in the armchair. The party had lasted late, and she had been so tired (and possibly, a little overdosed on Firewhiskey) that she had just stayed where she was. Running her fingers through her hair, which was, as expected, messy from the previous night's party and her odd sleeping position, she forced herself to a standing position.

The whole thing- not the party, but the Goblet of Fire- came rushing back to her. She still wondered how Harry Potter, Boy Wonder, had managed to get his name into the tournament and become the fourth champion. Although Moody's theory- that somebody wanted him dead- made a bit of sense, she still could not imagine who. Not to mention the person had to be extremely talented at Confundus Charms in order to confuse the goblet. The situation in general was confusing, that's what it was.

The next couple of weeks passed by in a rather exciting blur. She had not managed to sneak off to the Forbidden Forest again with Ryan, as he was busy with one of the Durmstrang boys, Demetri Poliakoff, who had taken to following him around and asking numerous questions about Hogwarts. In turn, Ryan was subtly trying to ask about Dark Arts- but not getting anywhere. Coupled with Sarin's fervent practicing of almost every spell she knew, they did not have a whole lot of time together.

The classes were rather interesting, in terms of how the teachers treated her. Moody, McGonagall, and Snape were no different than ever, but Professors Flitwick, Sinistra, and Vector occasionally were a little more lax than they were with other students, on the excuse that they knew she had to prepare for the tournament. She had thrown herself into it fully, even researching past tournaments for any clue as to what the tasks would be like. She was very devoted to it, determined to show the school that there was no way a fourth-year, even Gryffindor Harry Potter, would be better than her. She had her pride.

One of these days in the beginning of November, she was in the Slytherin common room during her free period, lazily Summoning and Banishing a pillow back and forth while relaxing on what had become christened the Champion's Chair, thanks to a particularly drunk Adrian Pucey. A first-year that Sarin recognized as Risa's sister Astoria peeked her head inside. "Um…Mr. Bagman wants you and the other champions to meet with him. Something about the Daily Prophet, and wands." Sarin had no time to puzzle over the random combination before Astoria gestured to her. "It's right now."

"Fine." Sarin returned the pillow to one of the other chairs before standing. She shoved her wand back in the pocket of her robes and followed the girl to a small classroom, one of the numerous disused ones kept just in case. All the desks had been pushed away from the middle, leaving a large space. Three were in a line and covered with a long swatch of velvet to create a makeshift long table, behind which were five chairs. Bagman was sitting on one of them, and nodded at Sarin when she entered.

Krum was slouching in a corner, looking rather moody and sulking. Fleur was perched on one of the desks, crossing her legs daintily. A woman in magenta robes was talking quietly to Bagman. A minute or two later, a knock sounded at the door and Harry Potter entered, looking rather awkward and nervous, which, it seemed, was his natural behavior at least in regards to tournament business.

Bagman stood up. "Ah, here he is! Champion number four!" Sarin refrained from saying that there was no need to sound so happy about it. "In you come, Harry, in you come. Nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment."

"Wand weighing?" the fourth-year repeated anxiously.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead. The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. Then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he said, pointing to the woman. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet."

"Perhaps not that small, Ludo," she said, her eyes fixed on Potter. "I wonder…could I have a little word with Harry before we start? The youngest champion, you know…adds a bit of color."

"Certainly!" Bagman said in the same upbeat voice Sarin had now accustomed to hearing from him. "That is, if Harry has no objection?"

"Er-"

"Lovely," Rita Skeeter said, and in one move she grabbed the boy and yanked him out of the room. At this time, Bagman arranged four chairs near the door, which were obviously for the champions to sit in, and gestured them over. Fleur sat on the end, then Viktor, then Sarin, who rolled her eyes at the prospect of sitting next to the Gryffindor Hero. While Rita and Potter were still gone, Karkaroff and Crouch arrived, followed shortly by Madame Maxime. They all took seats with Bagman at the judges' table.

A frail-looking elderly man entered next and stood next to the window- Sarin realized, with a jolt, that the 'expert' Bagman had been referring to was Ollivander himself, Britain's most renowned wandmaker. Soon after Rita and Potter entered, followed quickly by Dumbledore, who gestured to the wandmaker. "May I introduce Mr. Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

"Mademoiselle Delacour, perhaps we could have you first," he said, stepping into the center of the room. Fleur flounced up and handed him her wand. "Hmmm…yes. Nine and a half inches, inflexible rosewood…containing…dear me."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur finished his sentence. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes." Ollivander nodded. "I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands, however, to each his own. If this suits you…" He ran his fingers along the wand, presumably testing its smoothness, and then muttered, "_Orchideous,"_ causing a bouquet of flowers to erupt from the tip. He handed them back to Fleur along with her wand. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order. Miss Lestrange…" There was a slight pause after her name. "You next."

Sarin stood up and handed him her wand. He slowly brushed his fingers over it. "Eleven and a half inches, inflexible, almost rigid. Ebony with a Runespoor fang core…" He raised his eyebrows. "Am I correct in saying that this wand was made by Gregorovitch?"

"Yea- I mean, yes." Now Krum looked mildly interested, although he did not say anything to her. She had gotten her wand from Gregorovitch, as the foreign wand maker used a wider variety of cores.

He waved it, causing a wind to blow throughout the room. "Still working well, I see. This is fine."

She took her wand back and sat down, avoiding Dumbledore's gaze as Krum went through the same process with the wandmaker. Runespoor fang wands were known for being involved with Dark Arts and the like- she had looked it up two years prior when her classmate Sierra, from Ravenclaw, had asked a lot of the students in their year what their cores were. She did not feel like meeting Dumbledore's stare at the moment.

Her determination to not look at him caused her to not even pay much attention to Krum's and Potter's wand examinations; thus, it was a surprise when Dumbledore said, "Thank you all. You may go back to your lessons now- or perhaps it would be quicker to just go down to dinner, as they are about to end."

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos," Bagman reminded. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Yes, let's do those first," the reporter said, still staring at Potter. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

The photographs took so long that Sarin was beginning to think they would miss dinner. Madame Maxime's great height made it nearly impossible to get a picture with her in it. Finally, she sat in a chair while everybody else stood around her. Rita Skeeter and her photographer then insisted on getting individual shots of each champion, which also took a while- Krum wouldn't smile, Fleur disapproved almost every picture taken of her, and Potter kept blinking. Sarin's turn wasn't much better, as it took Rita and the photographer a long time to find a pose for her that didn't make it look too much like her mother's before-Azkaban photo. More than once Sarin could hear the photographer muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "stupid family resemblance."

Once that was finally done, the four champions exited the room quite eagerly, Fleur with Madame Maxime, Krum with Karkaroff. This left Sarin and Harry, both heading directly to dinner, to walk together. It was obvious they were both hoping for one of their friends to come looking for them, and save them from this awkward journey, but they both knew everybody would either be heading to the feast or already there, and nobody would be coming from this direction.

When they reached the Great Hall, they split up, heading to their respective tables of Slytherin and Gryffindor.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought. Oh, and a Runespoor fang is indeed a wand core, although it's very rare, and it is associated with Dark magic, but is talented with basically anything- ah, the wonders of Google. Ebony is powerful- one source even said second to elder. I spent so long looking that up…Anyway, up next is another excursion to the Forest, but…something interesting happens.


	9. Chapter 9, Well, That Was Fun

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Harry Potter, and I'm pretty sure J.K. Rowling will not sell it to me.

Sarin held out her hand toward Ryan. "Give me the toad."

"I- Sarin, do you even know how to get to the clearing?"

"Yes," she replied. It was true- despite her horrible sense of direction that had resulted in her being a third-year before she could find her way around the castle easily, she had managed to memorize the way. This, of course, was partially due to her mapping it by making note of landmarks and what direction to go in when she reached them. She didn't tell Ryan this, however. He would probably be mad that she had written it down for anyone to find. "Please. I haven't practiced in weeks, and I'd probably be so rusty."

Ryan sighed. "Fine. But don't get yourself caught. And don't kill it." He handed her the toad's jar, which she snatched eagerly.

"I don't know how to do that curse...yet," she replied cheekily. "See you later!"

She couldn't help being excited as she darted to the forest, skirting around a pair of fifth-years who were too engrossed in each other (and their half-naked state) to even notice her. She pulled the parchment with her makeshift map out of her pocket and referred to it a few times, not willing to make any stupid mistakes, although she was pretty sure she had memorized what to do. She reached the clearing quickly and glanced around, just checking that nobody was there, before unscrewing the lid of the jar and tipping the toad out, quickly submitting it to the curse before it could try and hop away.

She wasn't rusty, to her surprise, although she wasn't any better, either. She supposed that the Dark Arts- magic in general, probably- was like swimming, in that you don't forget how once you've learned. She practiced for an hour, until she was suddenly aware that the sky was dark. Damn. She had run off right after dinner, eager to do something to take her mind away from the wand weighing and Dumbledore's piercing gaze, but, looking back, that was an undeniably stupid idea. She shoved the toad back in the jar, then put the jar and the parchment in her book bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

She wasn't thrilled about having to do _Lumos,_ as it would be a dead giveaway if anybody was in the area, but it couldn't be helped. She knew better than to wander around in the forest, in the dark, with no light. Although, she thought dryly, she didn't know better than to wander around in the forest, which was forbidden for a reason, in the dark. To her surprise she made it out with no problems, although she heard suspicious noises multiple times and pushed through branches so much her clothes and hair were certainly disheveled.

She stepped around the gamekeeper's hut, darting past the greenhouses, only to find herself looking right at Professor Sprout. "I-"

"Never mind what you were doing out here," the Herbology professor said, taking in Sarin's disheveled state. She probably had her own ideas about what Sarin was doing. "Students aren't supposed to wander the grounds at night... and it's getting cold, what were you thinking?"

Sarin wasn't in the mood for this at all. "What am I going to get?"

"Well, I'm thinking fifteen points from Slytherin, and you'll meet me in Greenhouse Three tomorrow and help me with the plants. Bring protective gloves. 3:00."

"Fine."

"You may go, then," Sprout said, heading back inside her precious greenhouses. Sarin whirled around, half-running back up to the castle. She snuck into the boys' dormitory, which was thankfully empty, and deposited the toad on what she was sure was Ryan's bed (there was a book on it, and the other three boys were not particularly...literate) before heading to her own. She didn't want to face Ryan and what would surely be his I-told-you-so attitude. If she could get away with not telling him this, then she would be happy.

The next day was her...detention, for lack of a better term, as it seemed like Sprout never gave what were official detentions, and she wondered if this would even make it onto her permanent record, which at this point was full of 'Sarin Lestrange hexed yet another Gryffindor' in various wordings. Shaking the thought out of her head, she pulled her gloves on and slipped into the greenhouse, which was empty apart from Sprout and a pudgy boy, who had his back to the door.

"Good, good. You can go help Neville repot the Wailing Neeti, but do be careful- they'll start wailing, obviously, if you drop them into the pot too hard. Take off your gloves- they like flesh contact better."

Sarin frowned, the name Neville tugging on her brain as she vaguely tried to think of where she had heard it before. Tossing her gloves onto the table, she took a spot next to Neville, whose red-and-gold tie gave away his house. He looked up then, and his mouth dropped open. "_Lestrange?_"

"Who..." the puzzle clicked into place. Neville. Neville was the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom. "Wow. So we have the pleasure of meeting. I believe our parents knew each other?"

"Your parents put mine into St. Mungo's!"

"Your parents put mine into Azkaban," Sarin shot back.

"My parents couldn't do anything, thanks to yours!"

"Well, if your parents had an ounce of compassion-" The boy- Neville- was getting worked up, she could see it, and it made her want to egg him on even more. These Gryffindors got angry so easily, it was fun to rile them up.

"If your parents had told my parents something useful-"

"Useful? You're sticking up for those...those murderers!"

"I'm pretty sure your parents are still alive."

"Yours won't be, if I ever get hold of them."

Sarin snorted. "Because you, fourth-year extraordinaire, could beat two experienced adults."

"I can't believe you're sticking up for them!"

"Well, you're sticking up for people in the mental ward, so..."

"Your parents are mental!"

"Not as much as yours!"

"Students!" Sprout hurried over from the opposite end of the greenhouse. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm in the same room as him!"

"She's a Lestrange!"

"Oh." Sprout suddenly seemed to realize what students she had forced to work together. "That, of course. Mr. Longbottom, you may go now. I think we'll be perfectly fine here."

"Watch out, she may curse you when your back is turned," Neville snapped, glaring one final time at Sarin before stomping out.

"Well, that was fun," Sarin muttered, sarcastically, under her breath.

A/N: This chapter was so much fun to write. I had this planned out for months, actually- basically as soon as I came up with the idea, I wrote down this scene. Poor Neville... Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated.


	10. Chapter 10, Here Be Dragons

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully, and, to her great surprise, Ryan was not mad when she accidentally let it slip that she had been caught wandering around after dark. She hadn't been in the clearing, so their secret was safe. She hadn't exactly meant to tell him- she had been telling Mimi and Evanna about her argument with the Longbottom boy, and Ryan happened to overhear and ask why she had been in the greenhouse- but since he wasn't angry, she wasn't irritated about her stupid slip-up.

Monday morning she was headed to her Transfiguration class when all of a sudden, her bag ripped. It wasn't filled completely, having only grabbed the things necessary for this particular class- two pieces of parchment, two quills, a bottle of ink, the essay that was due, and her book- so she couldn't completely comprehend why it had split open, spilling everything to the ground. Muttering a rude word under her breath, she stuffed everything back and attempted to mend the rip. Her task was interrupted by the fourth-year extraordinaire himself, the Boy Who Didn't Die, Harry Potter.

"What?" Sarin looked down at her bag again and performed the Mending Charm. The rip closed up neatly. "I have to get to class."

"Sarin," Potter said- was that the first time he actually talked to her?- "the first task is dragons."

"Huh?" Sarin, who had partially turned to leave, slung her bag on her shoulder, whirling back around.

"Dragons," Potter repeated. "They've got four, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."

"Are you sure?" Now, she was mentally cursing herself for ever entering this stupid tournament in the first place. What if she actually died? They had said something about a death toll- oh damn, there were freaking dragons out there- this really was not good.

"Dead sure. I've seen them."

"Never mind." He probably didn't want to get himself, or somebody else, in trouble. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will both know by now- Maxime and Karkaroff saw the dragons too."

"Why are you telling me?" Sarin asked suspiciously. Why would the Gryffindor Hero want to help her, the daughter of the most infamous Death Eaters alive, who was secretly practicing Dark magic in the Forbidden Forest? They were polar opposites.

"It's just fair, isn't it? We all know now...we're on an even footing, aren't we?"

Sarin did not particularly want to think that she and a fourth-year were on the same level as anything, and was tempted to say something in that respect when the familiar clunking footsteps of Moody announced his presence. "Come with me, Potter. Lestrange, off you go."

Sarin hurried off eagerly, not willing to spend any further time in the presence of any Auror, even an ex-Auror. As a result she was late for Transfiguration, causing McGonagall to deduct ten points from Slytherin- it probably would have been five for any Gryffindor, she couldn't help but think- and give her a stern glare known for terrorizing the first-years.

When classes were finished for the day, she pored over books in the common room. Dragons. Dragons were the first task. The idea seemed utterly ridiculous to her, endangering students for no reason, although it certainly gave evidence to Moody's theory that someone wanted Potter dead. Dragons could certainly cause death. She was interrupted from her studies by three fourth-years, two massive and hulking, the other small and thin with a pointed face and pale blonde hair. "What do you want?" she growled, dangling her wand from her fingers threateningly.

"Now, now, I'm sure you don't want to do anything to me," the blonde replied. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

"My dear cousin," Sarin responded sarcastically. "I said it before. What do you want?"

"No need to be like that. I'm not here to antagonize you. In fact, I thought you'd like to see these." He handed her a badge, on which was emblazoned the words 'Support Sarin Lestrange- the REAL Hogwarts champion'. A few seconds passed, and then the message whirled around to form the words 'Potter Stinks'.

"Very nice," she said, handing it back. "So I'm guessing you're spreading these around, or something of the sort?"

"Exactly. It's always nice to see someone show Potter up, especially if that person is from my own house." He stuffed the badge back in his pocket and gestured to each of his two goons in turn. "These are Crabbe and Goyle, by the way. Their fathers..." He paused. "Knew your parents."

"As did yours," she replied cheekily, jotting another fact down on her parchment. "Don't try to deny it. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater."

"Don't say that too loudly!" the boy yelped. "My father is high up in the Ministry, and one foolish mistake could bring him down. Why do you think I don't associate with you?"

"Because I'm two years older?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Because your parents, Lestrange, are in Azkaban, and to everyone else, my father has renounced the Death Eater way of thinking and is now on the straight and narrow path. Being around people like you could severely injure that reputation. But..." he held out the badge yet again, " I must support the real Hogwarts champion, since, after all, I would much rather have you win than Potter or that veela. Krum is always a good choice- Durmstrang is a fine school- but it would not be good for my own reputation to be cheering on somebody not from Hogwarts."

"That's wonderful," Sarin said dryly. "Now, I need to get back to my studying." She looked down, not even caring if the Malfoy boy and his two cronies were still standing there, and frantically flipped through books, still trying to figure out a way to get past a dragon. It wasn't easy. First, she didn't even know the full details of the task. She had to get past it- but then do what? And what spell would even work on a dragon, with their thick, tough skin? She doubted even the Killing Curse would work, not that she could even do it. She saw Ryan entering, and promptly called him over. "Listen," she said in a low voice. "I really need your help. The first task has something to do with dragons, and I have no idea what I can do."

"Dragons?" He blew out a long breath. "Not a whole lot of magic even works on them. You could always go for the eyes- they're a big weak point- but then the creatures would get angry. I don't think you can kill it, either- not to mention you'd have all the adults on your back if you ever tried something like that. I think the best chance is faking it out- distract it, somehow, while you do whatever you need to do."

She nodded, an idea steadily growing in her mind.

A/N: Yeah, I know this chapter was a little shorter than normal. The next one's probably going to be quite long, so it balances out. I think some of these will be quite long, unless I actually decide to split the chapters in half. Please review.


	11. Chapter 11, The First Task

The day of the first task dawned bright and early for Sarin, whose nerves woke her up at six o'clock. She tossed and turned, couldn't get back to sleep, and finally got up, heading down to the common room. Ryan, a notorious early riser, was already down there, looking much more alert than she was, and putting the finishing touches on a Charms essay. "Hey," she said quietly.

"Sarin? Since when do you not sleep until the last minute?"

She sighed. "When I'm facing a dragon seven hours from now, that's when." She sat down next to him. "It's stupid, but I... Fine, I'm actually scared. I'm not a bloody Gryffindor- I don't even know why I entered this tournament to begin with. I shouldn't have."

"Don't say that. You're brilliant, and you're top of the class when it comes to talent. You took on two seventh-years last year, remember, and they came off worse than you did."

"Seventh-years and a dragon are pretty different," she replied, suddenly realizing Ryan had called her brilliant. "What if I make a fool of myself in front of everybody? Then I won't just be Sarin Lestrange, daughter of Death Eaters, but Sarin Lestrange, daughter of Death Eaters, and that girl who failed horribly at the Triwizard Tournament." She sighed. "I know that I'm- reasonably- powerful, but still, me against a dragon? I'm pretty sure the dragon would win that one."

Ryan rolled his eyes, shoving the essay into his bag. "There's a reason the Goblet of Fire picked you out of all the people who put their names in. Stop underestimating yourself. You're a Lestrange, for Merlin's sake." He looked up. "Make them proud."

Sarin thought about her parents. She knew her mother, for one, would never have shied down from something like this. There was no way she would, either. She still had her doubts, but she knew that she did have talents. That the Goblet would never choose somebody who couldn't handle this. She could handle this. "Yeah. You're right."

v"I know," Ryan said, grinning. "I'm headed down to sneak something from the kitchens. Want anything?"

The morning classes passed much more quickly than Sarin would have liked, and in the blink of an eye, it was lunchtime. Everyone at the Slytherin table stopped to wish her luck- including Ryan, who claimed that two times was better than one- and then, she was heading out towards the small tent set up next to the arena. Krum and Fleur were already there- was it just her, or was she always third and Potter fourth to arrive- pacing around nervously. She couldn't help but join them, well aware that the three of them must have looked ridiculous, pacing around in little circles in separate corners of the tent. Better than pacing in one large circle all together, though, following one another around...She was struck with a sudden urge to laugh, and rapidly pushed that thought from her mind, not wanting to look like an idiotic fool in front of the others.

"Nah. Hey...next weekend...you and me? The Forbidden Forest?"

"That sounds awesome. I'm getting sick of Poliakoff."

"Good. I'd thought that you forgot about our plan to learn Dark magic- speaking of which, is Poliakoff any help?"

"No. Not at all. Apparently, he's not good at it. Just my luck- I 'befriend' the one person from Durmstrang who isn't even good at what we want to learn. Oh, and in case I forget- good luck today."

There was a small flutter in Sarin's chest that she determinedly ignored. "Thanks."

The morning classes passed much more quickly than Sarin would have liked, and in the blink of an eye, it was lunchtime. It seemed like every person from Slytherin stopped at her seat to congratulate her, even Ryan, who claimed that two is better than one. Once she had picked at a small amount of food, she headed outside to the small tent, where Fleur, Krum, and Ludo Bagman already were. Krum looked even angrier than usual, and was glaring at whatever had caught his eye at the moment. Fleur was sitting at a stool, even paler than usual.

Potter entered last- was it an unspoken rule among the adults to make sure he was late to everything tournament-related?- and Bagman clapped his hands together. "Harry, good-o. Come in, come in, make yourselves at home." He proceeded to explain what was going on, and showed them all a purple bag, from which they would all be selecting a model of their dragon, and the order they would be going in. Sarin got the Swedish Short-Snout and the number one. Fleur pulled out the Welsh Green and the number two. Krum got the Chinese Fireball, and three. Lastly, Potter, looking more nervous than ever, reached in and took the Hungarian Horntail, which held the number four.

Bagman nodded to Sarin. "The numbers show which order you're going in. Miss Lestrange, enter the arena when the whistle blows." He then pulled Potter out of the tent to talk to him- suspicious much?- leaving Sarin alone with her nerves.

The whistle sounded much too soon, and she entered the arena. The Swedish Short-Snout, a blueish-gray, average-sized dragon, was sitting on its clutch of eggs, occasionally glancing around. She hid behind a large rock, hoping that it couldn't sense her. If it did, it didn't see her as much of a threat, for it stayed in that position. She aimed her wand across the arena at another, smaller, rock, and muttered the spell that would transfigure it. It worked- thankfully- and the rock transformed shape into a large, playful dog, which instantly began frolicking around. Sarin repeated the spell on another rock, so that there were two dogs running around being hyper.

The dragon rose up and belched fire at the animals, but missed. Infuriated, it started chasing them as best it could, not wanting to stray too far from the nest, yet wanting to eliminate potential predators. When its back was turned Sarin darted to another rock, this one smaller, meaning she had to crouch awkwardly over. She peered up. The dragon had finally left the nest, which was maybe thirty feet away from Sarin. The Short-Snout, on the other hand, was on the other side of the arena. From the looks of it, it had injured one of the dogs, but not the other, and was still busying itself with them. Sarin leapt over the rock and sprinted, just as the dragon whirled around and shot fire at her.

She dropped to the ground to avoid it, but it caught her on the side, anyway. She frantically rolled over, dousing herself with water from her wand, fighting to ignore the haze of pain that swept through her. Only a few more feet, she thought blearily, pulling herself up and nearly doubling over. She stumbled toward the nest, fumbling for the golden egg with one hand and holding it up in the air as the audience applauded, some- the Slytherins- more excited than others.

The dragon keepers rushed in to subdue the Short-Snout and bring it back to the enclosure. Sarin hobbled toward the tent, where McGonagall sidetracked her into Madam Pomfrey's little area. "Dear me," Madam Pomfrey said as she pulled up the side of Sarin's shirt and dabbed a thick orange paste on the burn. "Dementors last year, dragons this year...what are they going to bring into this school next? Now, I suppose you can go get your marks-do be careful of that, though, don't strain yourself for a few days."

Sarin headed out to the arena again, where the judges scored her. Karkaroff gave her a five, which seemed low even though she had been burned. Both Dumbledore and Madame Maxime shot silver number sevens from their wands, and Bagman and Crouch gave eights. Thirty-five total. It seemed decent, at least. She certainly hadn't made a fool out of herself, and she supposed that, in itself, was good enough. Winning the tournament would be astounding-not failing horribly, even if she didn't win, would at least be very nice.

Once all the champions had faced their dragons, they gathered once again in the tent. Bagman, too, was there, looking as excited as ever. He was like a child in that respect, it seemed. "Well done, all of you! Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth-but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime. If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open...see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg, because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it. All clear? Sure? Well, off you go then!"

The champions exited the tent and split up. Before Sarin had even walked twenty feet, she was accosted by a group of Slytherins, all fifth through seventh years, who all seemed incredibly proud. The two largest, Warrington and Montague, formed a chair with their arms, which Adrian Pucey and Ryan forced Sarin into. They walked back to the Slytherin common room in this procession, with the students eagerly passing around the golden egg. "You have to open it when we get back!" Risa was nearly hyperventilating from excitement. "We have to see what the next task is!"

"Okay," Sarin said, neatly grabbing it from the hands of a puny fifth year who seemed excited to be in close contact with the other students. They poured into the common room in one large wave, immediately claiming all the seats, and, of course, giving Sarin the armchair that was, even still, known as the Champion's Chair. Sarin held up the egg, letting everyone see it one last time, before carefully pulling it open.

A horrible keening wail filled the room. It sounded like, perhaps, a banshee, or somebody in pain. Sarin rapidly shut the egg. "What the hell is that?"

Everyone was murmuring amongst themselves. Mimi smirked. "Hmm, Lestrange...maybe that's what your parents heard when they attacked that couple."

"Shut up," Sarin snapped, not in the mood to deal with Mimi's comments at all. "Maybe it's you screwing your boyfriend." Many of the students chuckled.

"Seriously, Dagworth," Ryan said, looking peeved. "Sarin just won some glory for Slytherin House, which you are in. We have each other's backs here."

Mimi rolled her eyes. "I'm so out of here. Risa, come on."

"But-"

"Risa!"

Risa meekly followed Mimi up to the dormitory, shooting a sympathetic look at Sarin. The rest of the students stayed in the common room until dinnertime, having a party as best they could, seeing as it was still daytime, and nobody had any spare firewhiskey (Sarin made a mental note to see if the kitchens stocked it). At dinner, most of the students, apart from the Gryffindors, seemed at the least grudgingly respectful of her, although some seemed more impressed by Potter. Stupid fourth-year. Why did he have to get involved? Of course, it didn't _seem _like his fault that he was in the tournament...but then, who could really be sure?

A/N: This chapter took a while *phew*. Thanks for reading and please review!


	12. Chapter 12, Conversations

Sarin reclined on her bed, looking across the dorm at Evanna, who was sitting on her own bed. "This whole egg thing is insane," the latter said. "How can you even get anything out of it?"

"No idea." It had been a little less than two weeks since the first task, but she was no closer to solving the mystery of the golden egg than she had been that first day. She had listened to it for three minutes straight, wondering if the message might be at the end, but to no avail. All that happened was there would be a slight pause, and then it would begin all over again. It was no help. She had talked to everyone who might be of help-Evanna, Risa, Mimi, and Ryan being those people-but they, too, had not been able to come up with ideas. Technically speaking, the clue was supposed to be solved on its own, but then, who was actually paying attention to that rule? She had heard Potter, just the other day, talking about the egg with two other fourth years, a redheaded Weasley boy and a Mudblood girl. Fleur and Madame Maxime had discussed it, just like Krum and Karkaroff. Nobody was doing this solo.

"Have you talked to Ryan recently?" There was a glint in the other girl's eye that was almost Mimi or Risa-like.

"Not since I asked him about the egg." Like it or not, the cold weather had unofficially put an end to their practicing. They had considered practicing in the boys' dormitory, but had nixed that idea as being not private enough. Although it was unlikely that they would be turned in by fellow Slytherins, it was completely likely that they would be blackmailed in some way because of it. She supposed it would just have to wait, as there was no way they could do that sort of thing in an empty classroom or anything of the like. They couldn't afford to get caught. If performing the Unforgivable Curses, or most Dark magic, honestly, landed a person in Azkaban, it would certainly get them expelled from school, and neither one wanted that.

"Hmmm," Evanna said. "So...what is up with you two, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Sarin asked suspiciously. "There's no 'us two' if you mean it in _that _context." Sarin wasn't one for love-or relationships, for that matter. The closest she had come was when, last year, she had snogged one of the older students on a half-drunken dare. That hadn't gone anywhere outside of the party, although it couldn't, as it was a graduation party and he had left Hogwarts the next day. She couldn't imagine herself being one of those girls in a couple, always fawning over someone else. She couldn't deny that Ryan was attractive, and certainly smarter and better at holding conversation than the other three boys in her dormitory, not to mention they were friends of a sort. But there was nothing there, as she always hastened to tell herself.

Evanna chuckled. "Classic denial, Sarin."

"I'm not in denial!"

"Well...what if he-"

"I'm not having this conversation. At all." Sarin grabbed her Defense Against the Dark Arts book and a roll of parchment. "Look, I need to write that stupid essay for Moody's class. I have to go."

The blonde girl pouted, her mood rapidly changing from the downfall of the conversation. "Fine, I'll see you."

Sarin nodded and hurried off, heading directly to the library. It was true that she had to write an essay, but she also wanted to avoid talking more about Ryan. She had indeed considered the prospect of...something...with him, as it only made sense. He was around her age, in her house, and from a respectable pureblood family. He, too, was the child of a Death Eater, and understood what Sarin was going through in that respect, although Yaxley was no way near as notorious as the Lestranges. On top of all that, they enjoyed spending time with one another as much as two Slytherins would. He would make a good boyfriend, if she ever considered such a thing. She just didn't love well, like her parents in that respect. From what she had heard, they had respected one another, but there wasn't _love_, so to speak. That would be her someday, if she ever married.

Unfortunately-or was it fortunately-Ryan was there, also writing an essay, although his was for Transfiguration. He saw her and promptly waved her over-why did this make her happy?-and she sat down across from him. "Hey."

"Hey, Sarin. What's up?"

"Looking forward to the nice weather," she said dryly, hoping to convey what she truly meant by that statement. By which she meant looking forward to practicing Dark magic again. It was annoying that they had been forced to stop just when she began to get good at one of the Unforgivable Curses. If only they had more time...but then, there was always March to June, not to mention if they got together over the summer. Ryan's birthday had just occurred in November, so they were both of age, and there would be no Trace. They could always practice together then if they found a reasonably private spot.

"Agreed," Ryan said, nodding slowly to show that he got the hint. "I can't wait to continue what we started."

They didn't talk much after that, but instead hit the books and began furiously writing their respective essays. Ryan finished first and put his things away, although he stayed sitting there, leaning back in his chair so far Sarin expected him to fall backwards and crack his skull on the floor. He stayed until she finished as well, and they walked back to the common room, muttering to one another about their secret practices, and the possibility of meeting over the summer to continue.

A/N: Yeah...total filler chapter here. Sorry 'bout that. The Yule Ball is coming up, anyway, which is going to be fun. Thanks for all the favs and alerts, you guys are great. Please review.


	13. Chapter 13, The Unexpected Task

Sarin glanced around at the other people in the sixth-year Transfiguration class. If anything, they looked as bored as she was. The subject itself was mildly entertaining...when they actually performed magic. Listening to McGonagall rant on about the dangers of human transfiguration of all kinds, however, was quite uninteresting. Well, lectures of any kind were, really. Sarin imagined a class on Dark magic would be very attention-holding, but of course, such a thing would never occur at Hogwarts. Stupid Dumbledore, Sarin thought meanly. Muggle-loving-

She was interrupted by McGonagall loudly 'ahem'-ing for attention. "The Yule Ball is approaching. This is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above, although you may invite a younger student if you wish." This elicited laughs from both Risa and Mimi, who began quietly discussing how ridiculous they would look showing up with fifth years, something McGonagall rapidly shushed. "Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. The Yule Ball is a chance for us all to let our hair down."

The professor looked quite disapproving as she said this, like anyone caught with their hair down would be swiftly reprimanded. The image was encouraged further by the tight bun at the back of her head. "But that does not mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most displeased if a Hogwarts student embarrasses the school in every way." The bell rang, and everyone hurried to get their things. "Miss Lestrange, a word, please."

Sarin tentatively hung back, vaguely wondering what she did. "Yeah-er, yes?"

"The champions and their partners open the ball, so do make sure that you have a partner. It wouldn't be appropriate to show up alone."

"Fine."

A partner, Sarin thought as she left. Who would be a good partner? Certainly she was limited to the sixth and seventh years, for Risa and Mimi were right in that it would look ridiculous for a girl to show up with a younger boy. So many of the Slytherin males were simply muscle-Montague, Warrington, and Pucey being perfect examples. The one person who sprung to mind was Ryan, although she knew that bringing him would increase Evanna's interest in the two of them, and their nonexistent relationship. It only made sense, though, to go with him, as at least she would be sure to have a good time.

She hurried down the hall, seeing his familiar dark-blond hair on somebody turning the corner. She managed to catch up to him a minute later, tapping him on the shoulder. "Oh, hey. Didn't see you there," he replied as he turned to face her.

"I have something to ask you," Sarin said importantly.

"Ask away."

"Um. Will you be my partner for the Yule Ball?" There was a slight pause, and she explained. "The champions need partners, as we 'open' the ball, whatever the hell that means. I really didn't want to go with a goon like Warrington."

"Of course." Ryan nodded. "I'll go with you."

Well, that was easy. Sarin smiled to herself as she walked away. There. She had her date-no, no, this was not a date, Ryan was doing her a favor since they were friends and she didn't want to go with one of the thugs. He was doing what any good friend would have under the circumstances. There was nothing more to that, and it was stupid to try and let such things creep into her thoughts. It was a waste of time. She had never even wanted to be in any sort of relationship, at least during Hogwarts, as they usually failed. Of course, now those sensible thoughts were down the drain, all because she had started talking to Ryan and being friends with him.

She was able to keep such things out of her head for the weeks leading up to the Yule Ball, as everyone was quite busy. Sarin got herself swept up in all the hustle and bustle-most of the students were now staying for the Christmas break, so there were letters to be sent, from which anxiously replies were awaited. Everyone was preparing as best they could as far as themselves and their dates went. Dress robes were ordered or, from the few students who dared to sneak away, bought. There were numerous ploys to get people to ask one another. Risa and Mimi, in particular, made a habit of talking to every available boy in sixth and seventh year, from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, not to mention the Slytherin boys of Hogwarts. They snagged dates shortly.

Evanna probably wouldn't have gotten a date at all if it wasn't for Sarin's interference. She was talking to Ryan and his hanger-on Poliakoff, when the latter mentioned in passing that he had not found anyone to take to the Yule Ball. Sarin saw Evanna a few people away, grabbed her over, and introduced them-they were found snogging in an empty classroom the next day.

She didn't know who the other champions were taking. She didn't care, personally, but Mimi, who liked to be the reigning queen of gossip, did, and constantly pressed her for information. The constant response that she hadn't spent any time with them since the first task didn't deter the other girl, either, no matter how much she wished it did.

She still hadn't managed to figure out the mystery of the golden egg, either, although she was still diligently working, although now she was researching it in the library. Of course, there was a slight drawback-books on screaming golden eggs were not, well, present. Although there were some golden eggs in legends and myths, there was no mention of them screaming as if they were being tortured once they were opened. She wanted to give up, as the whole thing was quite long and tiring, but forced herself to continue, as she still wanted to do well in the tournament. She was in second place, beside Potter and Krum, who had tied, but in front of Fleur. Better than last, she conceded, but being beat by a fourth year was still quite embarrassing.

She had her dress robes picked out for the Yule Ball already, preferring to rely on her old ones which she had bought last year. They were a dark purple color, black if the light was low, and very sophisticated-unlike, she noted, Risa's pink frilly monstrosity. Sarin wondered if Risa's date, a boy named Jacques from Beauxbatons, knew about what she was wearing yet. Probably not, as they were still going together. She couldn't help but snort at the thought of Risa walking around in that-could she even get through a door with that wide skirt? Apparently Mimi hadn't told her how ridiculous it was.

Sarin shook her head away from thoughts of the dress. _I will not turn into Mimi, _she told herself firmly, gathering her books and slipping out of the library, down the hall. She saw Ryan and hurried over to him. "We're still on for the Yule Ball, right?"

"Of course." He nodded in addition, as if to reinforce his statement.

"Good, er, I'll see you there," she said not-so-eloquently, hurrying off.

What had gotten into her?

A/N: Sorry it took so long! This chapter was being annoying. Please review.


	14. Chapter 14, The Yule Ball

Sarin glanced at her dark robes before heading to the entrance hall. It was a couple minutes before eight, at which point the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open so that the students could enter. Ryan was already there, in dress robes that were such a dark green they were almost black. "Hey," he said, nodding. "You look great.

"Thanks." She fought back a grin. Don't be stupid, she told herself. He's just a guy, who happens to be attractive, and a Slytherin pureblood, and enjoyable to be around. Nothing to it.

Professor McGonagall appeared then, gesturing to the champions and their dates. Fleur was with Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw in Sarin's year. Potter was with a pretty Indian fourth-year girl who seemed quite excited about the whole process. Krum was with a brown-haired girl that Sarin couldn't even place. She had never seen that other girl before...or at least she didn't think she had. Something about the girl seemed vaguely familiar, although she couldn't put her finger on what it was. While the champions and partners were standing there, everyone else piled into the Great Hall, which had been decorated beautifully for the occasion.

Once everyone had been assembled inside, the champions and partners formed a line. They processed into the hall, all looking around in wonder. The walls were covered in sparkling silver that was obviously meant to resemble frost; mistletoe and ivy crisscrossed the black stars of the ceiling. The four long tables that had become such a staple of Hogwarts had vanished, replaced by a hundred smaller ones that could each seat about twelve, although it was unlikely that all would be completely filled. The largest table was at the front of the Hall, where the teachers usually sat, and was already partially occupied by the judges-Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Ludo Bagman, and, to the surprise of all the champions, a young redheaded man who was known as Crouch's assistant. Evidently Crouch couldn't make it. Of course, to Sarin it also seemed like he was not the type to let his hair down, to use McGonagall's words, and have fun. He was probably skipping out.

The champions assembled at the table. Sarin found herself between Ryan and Roger Davies, who kept glancing from her to Fleur as if amazed at his luck. On the other side of Ryan was Krum and his still-unknown date. Ryan was striking up a conversation with Krum on Quidditch when Dumbledore said, loudly, to his plate, "Pork chops!"

Sarin's first thought was that the man had gone mad, but this disappeared when two perfectly-cooked pork chops appeared on his plate. Everyone else placed their orders in much the same way. She refrained from asking for something ridiculous, although it was a strong temptation, especially after Ryan ordered a slice of cake before they had even eaten dinner.

When the food was finished, Dumbledore stood, as did everyone else. With a wave of his wand, the Headmaster caused all the tables, apart from the table at which the judges and champions were sitting, to zoom against the walls, leaving a wide-open space in the center of the floor. A raised platform was erected on the right side of the wall, and a small man placed various instruments on it as the Weird Sisters, easily the most popular Wizarding band, walked up to perform. Just like Sarin had seen in the magazines that Risa and Mimi pored over, they were extremely hairy and dressed in torn black robes.

The champions and their partners stood up and walked onto the dance floor as the band played a slow tune. One of Ryan's hands was around Sarin's waist, the other holding hers as they danced, revolving around in a small circle. A few other people poured onto the dance floor, taking attention away from the champions, although Sarin barely noticed. It was nice, dancing with Ryan like this. They didn't talk-how could they, with the band playing even the slow music loudly, but just danced, their bodies moving perfectly in time with one another.

After a few dances Sarin pulled Ryan off just to get a drink. They sat down, taking a break for a few songs, while on the floor couples whirled around wildly to one of the faster songs. After two lively, upbeat ones another slow one started. Impulsively, Sarin grabbed Ryan's hand and tugged on it. "I love this song. Can we dance?" She barely knew it, but she didn't care.

"Sure." They headed out onto the dance floor. Krum and his date were locked in an embrace, swaying slowly in place, barely moving. Sarin locked her arms around Ryan's neck-she had to reach up a bit, when had he gotten taller?-while he wrapped his around her waist, looking slightly confused yet happy at the same time. She smiled up at him. So this was what romance was like, she thought. All her life she had been trying to avoid anything of the sort...and even now, she knew that their relationship wouldn't be like something out of a novel, it would be suited to fit their Slytherin, somewhat Dark, personalities, but still. It was something.

Didn't everybody need something?

A/N: I know. Sucky, short chapter. This is under my 1000-word preference, but nothing important really occurs in Sarin's perception of the Yule Ball apart from the Sarin/Ryan interaction. I promise the next one will be better...Sarin figures out stuff about the egg.


	15. Chapter 15, The Egg and the Eye

Sarin glanced around the busy common room, sighing. Normally the amount of students who stayed for Christmas break was few, but this year, due to the previous day's Yule Ball, nearly every student, at least those above fourth-year or with dates, had ended up staying. This, of course, was not helpful to Sarin, who now found every part of the castle populated with students, even rowdier than usual due to the holiday and the lack of classes. She needed to puzzle out the egg, but was not finding anyplace to do so.

"Something wrong?" Ryan asked. Since the Yule Ball, they had changed their demeanors toward one another slightly, being more friendly and less Slytherin-esque, as much as Sarin hated to admit it. She did have to say, though, that he was an excellent boyfriend (and an excellent kisser, although she would never, in a million years, tell her roommates that).

"The stupid egg," she muttered, leaning back into him. "I have no peace and quiet, no time to work on it. The task is in less than two months-I don't want to show up unprepared."

"I highly doubt that Potter would figure this out quicker than you," Ryan reassured her. "He's only a fourth-year, after all. Not to mention that everything's pretty much handed to him. This is probably the first time that he's using his brains for something."

"Everything's handed to him...somebody probably told him what it was." She rolled her eyes. "He's already in first place-well, tied with Krum-in the tournament, since I got burned. I can't let him win."

"Then find someplace private." Ryan shrugged. "The castle's so huge...people can't be everywhere. What about the prefects' bathroom?"

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not a prefect." She snapped back out of reflex, her temper high as she was already irritated.

"Well, I know how to get in there. It's on the fifth floor, fourth door to the left down from the statue of Boris the Bewildered. The password's 'pine fresh'. Pretty simple, really. Maybe you could relax a little, think while there's actually quiet and no-" he looked across the common room to where a couple seventh-years were not behaving themselves "-couples practically doing it on the table, or Pucey getting drunk."

Being away from that did sound nice, as well as relaxing in a hot bath, so Sarin grabbed her bag and left, not trusting the other students to leave her stuff alone. Normally she would have brought it up to the dormitory, although it seemed a waste to go all the way up to the dormitory, and then back to the common room, then out the door and up quite a few flights of stairs. It was simple just to bring it, even though it was heavy from the weight of the egg. The annoying egg.

She found it and entered it easily enough. It was a beautiful room, that much was obvious, lit by a candle-filled chandelier, throwing everything into a soft glow. A bathtub the size of a swimming pool was sunk into the ground, surrounded by a hundred golden faucets. A pile of white towels sat at the corner, ready to be used. She turned on several of the taps as she was undressing, and, despite the size of the pool, it was filled before she had even finished. A thick layer of foam and bubbles lay on the surface of the water, and she set one of the towels at the edge before sliding in. The water was hot, but not uncomfortably so. The bathtub-could it really be considered a bathtub, with the size of it?-was quite deep. Her feet touched the bottom, although the water was still quite high. Her dark hair, usually a mess (on a good day) floated calmly around her. She enjoyed herself for a little while before grabbing the egg and opening it.

The wailing, screeching noise was no different than usual, to her obvious annoyance, and she slammed it closed. Due to her wet hands, it slipped, falling into the water. Cursing under her breath, she ducked under to retrieve it. To her surprise, it had been opened during the fall, and was not screaming anymore but instead an eerie voice was finishing up the chorus of some type of song-_ 'it can't come back'. _She grabbed it and popped above the surface for a quick breath before once again going under, opening the egg to hear the song.

_'Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching, ponder this_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look_

_And to recover what we took_

_But past an hour, the prospect's black_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back'_

Gasping for breath, Sarin pulled her head out of the water, setting the egg on the side of the tub once again. It was obvious that she and the other champions would have to look for something-that much was simple enough to figure out, as was that there would be only an hour to look for it. It was doubtful that the things would be lost forever if the time limit set was not reached, she reasoned. The judges wouldn't let anything happen to their treasured possessions, or whatever it was they were searching for. It seemed, from the line 'what you'll sorely miss' that whatever was taken would be special, something close to each champion. She wondered for a minute what they would take from her before again focusing on the puzzle.

She swam back and forth, thinking. Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground. Hmm...the egg sang underwater. Was it possible that they'd have to go in the water-in the Black Lake-for the task? Of course, that would not be easy. The Black Lake was very large, and very deep. Sarin was a decent swimmer, but nothing special. Not to mention that she'd have to find some way to breathe, if she were to be in there for an hour...although that was also rather obvious, a Bubble-Head Charm would do just fine for that.

But what was the 'we' that the egg was singing about? What lived in the Black Lake, apart from the giant squid (which was definitely not a 'we')? She had never recalled hearing anything about other magical creatures living in there, although, if this song was to be believed, there certainly was. She looked around the room for several minutes until her eyes alit on a picture of a blonde mermaid, flipping her hair and giggling. Was it possible that mermaids were in the Black Lake? That the champions would have to find something of theirs that the mermaids had taken?

She got out of the tub and dried herself off. _ Okay_, she thought. _ So there are mermaids in the Black Lake, and they've stolen something of ours, or more likely, the judges explained the rules and gave it to them, as they can't leave the water. Us champions have to search for these possessions that they've stolen, but we only have an hour, or else points will be deducted. _

It seemed relatively straightforward, and she dressed quickly, drying off the egg as well before stuffing it back in her bag and taking one last look around the room. She would definitely have to come back here sometime...maybe she could get Ryan to give her the password each time it changed, and she could always take baths in here...She shook her head away from her completely irrelevant thoughts and headed back to the common room. Maybe they could have a Celebrate-Sarin's-Success-On-Finding-What-The-Stupid-Egg-Meant Party.

Along the way she met Ryan, who had apparently been heading this way already. Looking around to make sure that nobody was passing by, she said excitedly, "I figured out the egg's clue! I-"

She was interrupted by Mad-Eye Moody, clunking along the hallway. "Lestrange. Come into my office for a moment."

She shrugged, glancing back at Ryan. She followed him along, hefting her bag onto her shoulder. She couldn't deny that she was slightly nervous, although she'd never show it. What on earth could he want to talk to her for? She hadn't had his class-it was during break, how could she?-and she hadn't done anything lecture-worthy in a long time. This was completely random in her eyes. "What do you want?" she asked as soon as the door of his office shut behind him.

"I heard you know what the egg means," he growled.

"Well, yeah."

"Have you told anyone besides your little boyfriend what it means?"

This was absolutely ridiculous. "No-and he doesn't even know what it means, I just said that I figured it out. Why?"

"You owe Potter one, don't you?"

"If you think I'm just going to give up my advantage..." she spluttered.

"He gave up his," he reminded her.

"He's a bloody Gryffindor! The whole lot of them are noble idiots!" In the back of her mind she registered that Professor Moody was a former Gryffindor, but at the moment she really did not care.

"You listen to me. You are going to tell Potter about that egg, and you are going to keep this all quiet. Otherwise...things could get awkward."

"Are you threatening me?" she huffed.

"I advise you to do what I said, Lestrange," he said, putting a tad too much emphasis on her last name. "I think you know why."

She rolled her eyes rather than admit that she had no clue what was going on, and stormed out of the room. This was ridiculous! But then...he hadn't specified exactly what to tell Potter. She didn't have to tell him everything. It was likely, in fact, that Potter wouldn't even pay attention to what she was saying. He probably would think she was trying to mislead him. Spurred on by that thought, she searched the castle, finding him exiting the kitchen with the youngest Weasley boy. "I need to talk to you," she sighed. The redhead didn't move, and she continued, "Alone."

"What is it?" Potter asked once Weasley had left.

"Listen...have you figured out the egg's clue?" The fourth-year shook her head-why was she not surprised?-leaving her free to continue. "Go take a bath with it. It helps."

"Take a bath?"

"Yes, take a bath," she snapped, turning around to go.

"Wait. Why are you trying to help me?"

She didn't even try to lie. "Moody told me to. I don't want to get on his bad side."

"Moody..." The boy's forehead wrinkled. "That's odd."

"He's odd," she grumbled.

Potter nodded. "Well...I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah. I'll see you at the task."

She hurried off, going to find Ryan and continue what she wanted to tell him about the egg. He was her boyfriend, after all.


	16. Chapter 16, Charms and Getting Caught

Sarin slid into the chair, setting the book down in front of her. It was obvious that the Bubble-Head Charm would be the most obvious means of breathing underwater for an hour (possibly more, if she couldn't find the mermaids in the set time limit), and, although she had heard of it multiple times, she had never actually used it herself. It was in her Charms book, though, on a list of useful charms that would be good to know, although they would not be expressly covered or practiced in the classroom. Usually, Sarin strayed away from extra schoolwork, but in this case, it was rather important. She knew it was relatively simple, though-not sixth-year work at all, to be honest, but rather it had been mentioned in both the previous year's book and this one, in that list.

The common room was empty, as the holidays had ended and everyone was, once again, busy with schoolwork. To her surprise, the other Slytherins were either in the library, in their dormitories, or somewhere about the school, as not a single person was there in the room with her. She supposed also that the few she had told about her plans to practice the charm had told the other students to let her be. It was a definite possibility-she knew Ryan would keep people out for her, as would Evanna. Mimi and Risa, along with a bunch of other girls, had no doubt left in order to search for Krum (they were still upset that he had spent the whole night with a fourth-year Mudblood Gryffindor).

Whatever the reasons, it certainly came in handy, as she was left in peace to practice. She read the short section in the book, coming to the conclusion that it was indeed simple as she had originally thought. She carefully pointed her wand at herself, which was as always an odd sensation, as she was much more used to performing spells on others, or objects in some cases, and muttered the incantation, _Bulla Tutela. _It took effect almost instantly, creating a protective, clear shield around her entire head like a clear globe. She felt around it, marveling at the firmness yet flexibility of it. She could make it meld closer to her face if she needed to, which might come in handy depending on the lake, and whether there were any narrow areas she needed to pass through, as she had no clue what was in store. A quick _Finite Incantatem _caused it to disappear, and she continued doing it on and off until she felt absolutely comfortable with it.

That was solved, then, thank Merlin. As long as everything about the clue that she had solved turned out to be correct, which it certainly seemed to be (a quick glance at Hogwarts, A History had proved that yes, there were mermaids in the Black Lake, and a glance at a magical creatures book proved mermaids could not sing above the ground, at least not understandably so), then she would be all set. There would honestly be no reason why she shouldn't be able to complete the task, and complete it well. Not to mention that mermaids were not particularly vicious, and would not attempt to hurt her like the dragon. The main challenge here would be finding them, and finding the possession that they had taken, but once that was done, it would be quite simple.

Once again, her mind turned to the question of the treasured possession. She did not have anything that she held in high regard. Her wand, perhaps, but that would surely be impossible. Hadn't Dumbledore said that the champions would be armed only with their wands? They couldn't take somebody's wand-no way. That couldn't be it. There was honestly nothing else that she could think of that she would 'sorely miss'.

She set the book back in her bag and brought that up to her dormitory, checking again to make sure the egg was still in its safe position under her bed before grabbing her Astronomy book and some parchment, quills, and ink before heading back to the common room to begin work on her essay. Ryan was there, sprawled out in one of the larger armchairs, a book in his hand that he wasn't really reading. He glanced up when he saw her. "How's the charm coming along?"

"Finished," she replied somewhat proudly. "I'll definitely be able to perform that. The only problem with the task will be finding...whatever was taken from us champions."

"Great." He fluidly stood up, placing his book down on the table and grabbing the things out of Sarin's hands, putting those down as well. "I think, in that case...a little celebration is in order." He grinned rakishly.

"What did you have in mind?" She pretended not to have any idea what he was talking about.

He pulled her close to him and covered her mouth with his own, slipping his hands around her waist and drawing her even closer to him, if such a thing was possible, so that they were pressed directly against one another. Her hands were wrapped around his neck, embracing him as they simultaneously deepened the kiss, tasting one another. Pausing for a moment, they fell into the Champion's Chair before continuing what they had started, hands beginning to wander, a few buttons becoming undone. Their hands crept up and down one another's shirts, and it was in this position that they were when Mimi, Risa, and Evanna walked in, laughing about a recent Krum sighting in which Risa had tripped, accidentally-on-purpose, making him intend to catch her, but he let her fall instead.

"...Oh." Mimi said when they walked in to see Sarin and Ryan on the chair, hands up each other's shirts, mouths attached. They broke apart instantly, having the decency to look embarrassed. Most of Ryan's chest was showing, and Sarin's shirt was half-unbuttoned so that part of her lacy black bra could be seen. Risa stifled a nervous giggle as Sarin buttoned her shirt. Mimi smirked. "I think that effectively killed the mood."

"Be nice." Evanna nudged her. "I think they're perfect."

"I think they're still in the room," Sarin grumbled under her breath, half-jokingly.

"I'll see you around," Ryan said, heading out, planting a kiss on Sarin's lips before he slipped out the door.

"Tell me..." Risa said eagerly. "How far would you have gone, if we hadn't come in?"

Sarin rolled her eyes. "There is absolutely no way that we would have done it right here in the common room, on my chair no less."

"Ooh...you would have gone up to the boys' dormitory, then?"

"That is absolutely not what I meant!"

"What did you mean?"

"I am not having this conversation." Sarin gathered her things, trying her best to look dignified. Of course, it was hard to look dignified since she had just been caught making out with her boyfriend in the middle of the common room, him feeling her up. That was not exactly how she wanted the others to catch her.

"But I want to have this conversation." Risa pouted.

"Have it with Mimi," Sarin said. "Hasn't she spread the rumor that her and Montague-"

"I don't want Risa questioning me!"

"Too bad." Sarin smirked, and went off to finish her homework in the library.

A/N: Bulla Tutela is Latin for 'protective bubble', or at least that's what Google Translate tells me.

That was by far the most intense thing I have ever written XD.


	17. Chapter 17, The Second Task

The weeks before the second task passed quickly, in a blur of classes and free periods and stolen time with Ryan in whatever deserted area they could find (after the incident with the girls walking in on them, they had given up on the common room). All too soon, the date of the first task was upon them, and that morning, fifteen minutes before the task was supposed to start, Sarin made her way down to the lake. Krum was already there, but then, that was to be expected, as his school's ship was in the lake. Fleur arrived a few minutes later, looking beautiful as always, like the part-veela that she was. Potter was (once again) late, and Sarin couldn't help but be slightly amused. It certainly seemed as though the boy had made it a point to be late to everything that had to do with the Triwizard Tournament.

Again, Bartemius Crouch was not present, and his assistant, who Sarin now knew to be Percy Weasley, older brother to the twins, who were in her year, was replacing him. The people at the judges' table-Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff, Bagman, and Weasley-seemed quite calm, the opposite of the champions, who were visibly nervous bordering on excited. At about twenty-nine minutes past nine, Sarin saw a figure, who obviously was Potter, running pell-mell toward them, panting visibly. "I'm...here..." he choked out once he reached the area.

"Where have you been?" the Weasley asked. "The task's about to start!"

"Now, now, Percy," said Bagman, looking relieved, "Let him catch his breath."

The boy obviously needed it. He bent over, placing his hands on his knees and gasping. Bagman walked over to the champions and bade them move, then adjusted them so that they were all about ten feet from one another, all at points along the bank. He then headed back to the judges' table, pointing his wand at his throat and casting the _Sonorous _spell that loudened his voice. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One...two...THREE!"

Sarin waded into the water. It was positively freezing, and she rapidly cast a heating charm about herself. It wouldn't do to catch hypothermia or something of the sort during the task. The charm didn't help all the way-the water was still cold, although more bearable now-but she knew that it would provide enough heat so that she would not be overly cold. Pointing her wand at herself, she whispered, "_Bulla Tutela," _seeing and feeling the protective bubble erupt around her head. She was now in the water up to her chest, and she dove under.

It was a strange sensation, being underwater and breathing clearly. The water was murky, although the Bubble-Head Charm helped somewhat by preventing any of the water from getting in her eyes. She saw other shapes in the distance, although she couldn't be sure whether those were water-dwelling creatures or other champions, and did not focus on them, but swam along at a decent pace. She didn't want to tire out too quickly by swimming too fast, although luckily she was in alright shape, enough so that she could swim for a relatively long amount of time.

It did seem like a long amount of time before she reached the merpeople's area, and even then she happened upon it by chance, as she had absolutely no idea how to find them. They weren't like the merpeople of Muggle stories, which were beautiful, long-haired sirens who entranced unlucky male sailors who were traveling by. The real thing was ugly, with grayish skin, distorted features, and long, tangled green hair. They could not entrance any humans, certainly, unless that human was severely disturbed in their mind.

She continued swimming through the merpeople's village, heading toward what seemed to be the town square, with a statue of a giant stone merperson. Four people were tied to the tail of it. Potter was struggling with a few mermen-or was it mermaids? There was no way to tell-from the gist of it, it seemed like he wanted to rescue all four of the figures. She drew a little closer, snorting at the boy's Gryffindor actions, and studied the figures.

There was a small girl, probably eight or nine, with silvery-blonde hair. Obviously she was related to Fleur, as the girl's features were quite similar, like a younger version of the Beauxbatons girl. There was the youngest Weasley boy-Ronald? Donald?-and the Mudblood that Krum had gone to the Yule Ball with. The last person, though, was instantly familiar. _Ryan. _So that was what they had taken from her, from all the champions. A person that they cared about. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way, and Sarin immediately set to work, using _Diffindo _to cut the ropes binding Ryan and pulling him upwards, breaking the surface together, both gasping for breath.

"You're first!" Ryan said instantly, pulling her towards the shore. "You'll definitely move ahead in points now, Sarin."

They reached the shore, climbing out together, and Madam Pomfrey instantly wrapped them both in thick blankets, handing them both a small glass of Pepper-Up Potion, which warmed her up instantly. Fleur, who apparently had left the lake because of a grindylow attack, was hounding Madame Maxime about her sister.

Krum popped up a few moments later with the Mudblood girl, half-carrying her out, and it was several more before Potter surfaced, dragging both the Weasley and the veela girl to shore. Fleur instantly rushed over, as did the Weasley judge, helping their siblings out while Dumbledore and Bagman helped Harry onto land again. The judges conferred for a while before returning to their positions at the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Bagman's voice boomed. "We have reached our decisions. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. Fleur Delacour demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, but she was attacked by grindylows and failed to receive her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

"I deserved zero," the Beauxbatons girl said.

"Sarin Lestrange also used the Bubble-Head Charm and was first to return with her hostage, although she was one minute outside the time limit." There was enormous cheers from Slytherins, Ryan included. "We therefore award her forty-seven points."

Sarin's heart leapt. Forty-seven...out of _fifty? _That was a high score, something that should put her in first place, then, ahead of Potter and Krum. Fleur she knew would be last place, no matter what.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration which was effective, and was second to return. He is awarded forty points."

There were scattered claps throughout the crowd, Karkaroff looking particularly pleased with himself.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed. He returned last and well outside the time limit. However, we have been informed that Mr. Potter was in fact first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety." Most of the Slytherins in the crowd, as well as those from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, were now looking less than thrilled. "Most of the judges-" Bagman gave Karkaroff a rather rude look-"feel that this shows moral fiber and merits good marks. Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

Tied, Sarin thought instantly, doing the math. She was first, yes, but it was a tie with Fourth-Year Extraordinaire for the title. She sighed slightly and turned to Ryan, who seemed fit to explode at what had just occurred, but Bagman interrupted with some final words.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming exactly one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages into the castle to get out of the cold-it was February, after all-and into something warm. It was over, Sarin thought dazedly, clutching Ryan's hand despite the thick blankets that made such a thing difficult. There would be rest for four months. There would be time to relax, as there was no exams, time to practice Dark magic in the forest with Ryan again, time for more snogging sessions in deserted areas. There would be time for everything.


	18. Chapter 18, Celebration and Discussion

Sarin and Ryan were bustled back to the hospital wing, along with the other champions and hostages, by Madam Pomfrey. She checked them all over, dabbing ointment over Fleur's grindylow cuts, and making sure that none of the others were injured in every way. The whole process took about forty minutes, and it was with a strong sense of relief that the two Slytherins, still damp but not completely soaked anymore, headed back to their common room. They stopped in a corridor nearby for a few minutes of snogging, but Ryan, for some reason, seemed eager to get back, so they took much less time than they probably would have otherwise.

Ryan let Sarin enter first, and when she did, she saw all the upper years, fifth through seventh, gathered in the common room, many (make that almost all) holding a drink or food item of some sort. A large banner was hung lopsidedly over the fireplace, and it read the now-famous 'Support Sarin Lestrange' slogan that had caught on amongst the Slytherins. A fifth year with platinum blonde hair rushed up to the pair. "Hi Ryan! Hi, Sarin. Great job! Did we do well on the party, Ryan?"

Sarin turned to Ryan before he could answer. "You knew about this?"

"Yeah. I planned it with everyone a few nights ago, we had the idea that there should be a party after each task. Of course, with you coming in first on this task, that makes the celebration even more appropriate." The fifth year, who was still standing there, cleared her throat, obviously awaiting Ryan's response to her. "Oh, sorry, Delia. Yeah, this is really good."

It actually was. Although the casual, lazy position of many of the students suggested disorderliness, there was almost a routine method of how the party was set up. The banner, Sarin could see, was actually one of many arranged in various positions around the room. Two fourth-years, who were both large and burly-she believed their names were Grabbe and Coyle, or something of the sort-were passing the food and drinks around, although they seemed to be the only younger students there. The Champion's Chair was deserted, and nobody was even going near it, or so it seemed.

"Thanks," Sarin said pointedly to Delia, who took it as a sign of dismissal (which it was). "Anyway, Ryan, I'll be right back. I just want to change out of these wet clothes."

"Okay," he replied, nodding.

She hurried to her dormitory and changed into a clean set of robes, combing her curly hair before heading back to the common room, overall looking much more presentable than she had before. She snagged a butterbeer from one of the trays and sipped, looking around for Ryan while accepting congratulations from the assorted students. Her dorm-mates were some of the first to approach, Evanna and Risa eagerly recounting their suspense, while Mimi looked on, bored with the proceedings, and tossing off a halfhearted, "Yeah, you did well," when Evanna elbowed her in the stomach.

Heading over to the Champion's Chair to sit for a little while, she found it was occupied. This surprised her. It wasn't that she _wanted_ or _needed _that particular chair, but that she had become accustomed to the level of respect the other Slytherins gave it, only allowing Sarin and, occasionally, Ryan, to sit there. The people on the chair, a blonde girl and boy, were certainly not being respectful. They were in a tangled mush of arms and legs, their faces attached at the lips. The boy turned his head slightly, hissing something to the girl-_Delia?-_and she saw his face.

It was Ryan. ,

She stood there, disbelieving, for a few seconds, then whirled around, pushing past people and storming out without apologies. She knew that it was stupid of her to feel this way, to be so attached to somebody, but her and Ryan were supposed to be exclusive. They were not to go around kissing other people. They had discussed it somewhat, that it made sense for them to be together, as they enjoyed one another's company, were both interested in the Dark Arts, and found the other physically attractive. But then he had to go, and kiss somebody else. Not just somebody else, either, but fifth-year, overeager, Delia.

She ran head-on to the corridor where, not even thirty minutes before, they had passionately snogged. She leaned against the wall, panting from anger, when a person came toward her. She yanked out her wand and jabbed it toward the figure before she even saw who it was. When she saw it was Ryan, she decided she had an even better reason to attack. "Tell me one reason," she growled, "why I should not Cruciate you this moment."

He actually seemed scared. Ha. "Um, because it's illegal?" he said, trying to joke.

"You have about ten seconds to tell me what was going on in there." She was trying to decide whether it would be too risky to actually perform the curse on him. Right now, she was severely tempted, despite the repercussions if she was found out. He deserved it.

"She started making out with me, not the other way around. I don't even like her. Sarin, you know we're together. I don't want anyone else that way."

Part of her believed him. Part of her still hung on to the anger, as this should not be resolved so quickly and simply. "Huh," she snorted, still vaguely wondering if she was to perform the Cruciatus Curse, if she would actually manage to do it. "How should I know you're telling the truth?"

"Because," he said, looking earnest, "do you really want to lose your chance at something with me?"

"You're not conceited or anything," she muttered sarcastically, although she lowered her wand.

"Really, Sarin. There's basically no one else who you even think is good enough for you." She winced and he noticed. "That came out wrong. What I'm trying to say is that we're pretty much made for one another." He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "What happened with Delia was nothing. She jumped on me, and I was trying to push her away. I, er," he glanced down at the ground, embarrassed, "accidentally pushed her in the chest, and she took that as a sign of-"

"Passion?" Sarin smirked. "Sounds a bit pushy, like Mimi, hmm?"

"So are we alright?"

"I guess we're alright."

A/N Sorry it took me so long to update. I've been busy with school.


	19. Chapter 19, The Month Of March

February turned into March, and compared to the stress and busyness of the previous months, it was like being a first-year again. The homework was diminished, as there was no finals, and since Sarin wasn't up all night studying anymore, things were quite nice. She and Ryan had gotten over their argument about Delia, although Delia had turned from admiration of Sarin's performance in the task to outright dislike, and the girl spent most of her time either lustily gazing at Ryan, or glaring daggers at Sarin. It didn't bother her too much, though, as she had seen so much of it from the Gryffindors over the years, not to mention put up with Mimi's snide comments, that she was quite used to it by that point.

In early March, Potter approached her, still looking awkward and nervous, like he had the first time she had really seen him, that day he was called to be a champion. "I never got to thank you," he said, "for your clue about the egg. I know I did that day, but...it's not the same. It did help, really. I wouldn't have gotten it, otherwise."

She shrugged. "It wasn't all me. I told you, Moody told me to. It was quite strange, really."

"That is odd," Potter said. "Anyway, I, er, have to go."

She nodded. "I'll see you at the last task."

"Definitely."

He's not _that _bad, she grudgingly admitted, at least for a Gryffindor. The situation in the Black Lake, with him trying to rescue all of the hostages, still struck her as rather ridiculous, not to mention the hero-worship that many of the younger students seemed to have for him, but he certainly wasn't as bigheaded as she expected him to be. He was just an awkward fourth-year, like everyone had been at that age. Truth be told, she knew he had proved himself to be a worthy competitor, and she was actually looking forward to seeing him in the last task.

The start of March also brought a return to the Forbidden Forest for Sarin and Ryan. It was brisk and cool out, but the snow on the ground had mostly melted off, and they were both eager to start once again on their task of mastering the Unforgivable Curses. One Saturday in March they took the toad and headed to their special clearing, checking for people before starting. They reviewed the Imperius Curse, which they were both quite proficient at, still, and although neither was absolutely perfect, they were both talented enough at it that they decided they would be done with it.

Moving on to the Cruciatus Curse was a little more difficult, they both found. Part of it was because Sarin couldn't stop thinking about her parents whenever she tried, as that curse had gotten them a lifelong stint in Azkaban, and she couldn't completely focus. They had both managed to cause pain to the animal, that much was obvious, but they both could tell that it wasn't a full-strength curse.

"I was wondering," Sarin said as they were packing up their things at the end of their session. "You remember the first week back, in Moody's class...when he did the curses on the spider?"

"Yeah, who'd forget that?"

"Why would he know those curses? Aurors try not to use them, much less do it almost _casually _in a class. And did you see the look on his face? He almost looked...I don't know, like he was enjoying it or something."

"You're right," Ryan said slowly. "That is weird...there can't be anything to it, but it's weird."

"What do you mean by 'anything'?"

"I don't really know." He chuckled. "Just that it's probably nothing. I can't imagine...that Moody's gone Dark. I mean, really, he was the most famous Auror during the Wizarding War*. He caught people like us."

"True. It's just...it's nothing. I'm just over-thinking it, because of what we're doing right now. It makes my mind think of stuff like that." She grabbed the book they had been referring to and stuffed it back in her bag. "Let's go back, I'm getting cold."

Sarin couldn't help but watch Moody more carefully over the next week. The man was off the beaten track to begin with, and it was hard to distinguish behaviors that stuck out even more. Like how he only drank from his flask, which he always carried with him. Was that suspicious, or was it just the actions of a paranoid retired Auror? It was nearly impossible to tell. She didn't share her suspicions with anyone else, though, not completely trusting anyone else the way she did Ryan. She knew he wouldn't tell anyone-his roommates were too thick to grasp anything, really, and he didn't have any other people that he talked to a lot. She certainly wouldn't tell Mimi or Risa, for it would get spread around the entire school. Evanna was a possibility, but Evanna was rather logical-she had almost gotten Sorted into Ravenclaw-and would probably dismiss the theory without having any proof.

Not that it really was a theory to begin with. No, it was just the product of an afternoon spent performing Unforgivable Curses secretly, she decided when careful observation of Moody hadn't brought up anything solid. She had thought back to that day when he cast the curses in the middle of a classroom, and she didn't like the man in the first place, and combined, these factors had come up with 'Something's up with Mad-Eye Moody'. No. So she dismissed the thoughts as best she could, and focused on other things.

She was very interested in finding out what the third task might be, but couldn't come up with anything definite. There were theories, certainly, ranging from the obvious (something with the Triwizard Cup) to the outrageous (fighting a dangerous Dark creature, usually Dementors/Inferi/Lethifolds). The good thing was, though, that this time, the champions would be told precisely what the task was a month beforehand, so there would be a lot of time to prepare, and they would have an exact idea of what was going on. It was absolutely perfect. No more cramming into a week or two whatever she had to learn.


	20. Chapter 20, The Maze

March turned into April, and April into May, the days and weeks passing by impossibly quickly. It was a blur of classes and schoolwork, of worrying about the third task and discussing it with her roommates, and of stolen moments in deserted locations with Ryan. They were still sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest every weekend, sometimes once on Saturday and once on Sunday if they had the time, practicing the Cruciatus Curse and growing proficient, and discussing how, exactly, they would practice the final and 'worst' Unforgivable, as they couldn't exactly kill their toad multiple times. The toad, which had been relatively docile while they were practicing Imperio, had once again become jumpy, expecting pain each time it was freed from the jar, and more than once they had to create a barrier before they practiced, just so that it would stay in the same location.

The theories as to what the final task would be were growing crazier and crazier, the normal ones almost forgotten. Pucey swore by his idea that the champions would have to face Inferi, while some of the younger students worried that by 'only one champion can win', the teachers meant 'the other three will die'. All in all, it was rather insane, and it was with great relief that at the end of May, she was held back in Charms, her last class of the day, and told to head to the Quidditch field at nine that night to learn what the final task would be.

Potter was in the entrance hall when she arrived, so they walked together as it would have looked stupid if they arrived within seconds of one another. Before the silence could get awkward Sarin asked, "What do you reckon it's going to be?"

"I dunno," he replied. "Something with the Triwizard Cup, maybe."

She nodded. "Yeah, that's the general consensus." It had been, anyway, before everyone started trying to outdo one another with stupid ideas.

They reached the Quidditch field to find that hedges had been planted all over it. They clambered over the hedges, which were only two or three feet high, to find Ludo Bagman, Fleur, and Krum in the center of the field, already there. "Hello," Bagman said. "Well, what do you think? Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he said, noticing the less-than-pleased expression on Potter's face, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over. Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

"Maze," Krum muttered after a moment.

"That's right! A maze. The third task is really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through ze maze?" Fleur asked.

"There will be obstacles," Bagman said, seeming extremely happy about this fact. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures, and there will be spells that must be broken, all that sort of thing, you know? Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." He nodded towards Sarin and Potter. "Then Mr. Krum will enter, then Miss Delacour, but you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

The champions all nodded politely. To Sarin, it did actually sound better than the other two. Of course, her sense of direction was rather...nonexistent, and she had a feeling that the Point Me spell would be used more than once, but it did sound quite straightforward, and certainly less dangerous than the first task, at least.

"Very well, if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..." Bagman led the way out. Sarin didn't find it cold at all, but she had been spending time in the Forbidden Forest with Ryan since March, and had grown used to the weather. She still headed back up, though, not wanting to be caught outside in the dark alone. Krum and Harry seemed to be having some sort of discussion, but, as it wouldn't have been about her-or at least, it shouldn't have been-she continued on her way, ignoring them.

Fleur split apart from Bagman and Sarin, heading back to the carriage in which, apparently, the Beauxbatons students had been sleeping. There was no doubt she was going to tell Madame Maxime so that the two could strategize, as it seemed to Sarin that the Beauxbatons headmistress and champion were quite close when it came to matters of the tournament. Even Krum and Karkaroff did as well...it was only Dumbledore who was so far removed from Sarin and Potter. Quite odd, really...that he, a great wizard (despite Sarin's disdain for his Muggle- and Mudblood-loving ways), did not offer even the slightest bit of help to either of his champions. Especially Potter...only a fourth year, and he _was _a Gryffindor, after all...perhaps Dumbledore did not think he needed help?

Sarin was so busy thinking about these things that she barely noticed that she had been walking quickly, reaching the castle much before Bagman. She headed inside, jumping in shock when she saw a figure standing at the other end of the entrance hall. She drew her wand. "Show yourself."

"Whoa, relax," the figure said, and Sarin instantly recognized the voice as being Ryan's. Embarrassed, she stuffed her wand back in her pocket.

"Sorry. But wait, why are you out? It's after curfew."

"I wanted to know what the task was...and I wanted to see you." They started heading back to the Slytherin common room. "I had to convince practically the whole common room that they would have to wait to learn what the task was. Everyone wanted to come up...and wouldn't that be lovely, several dozens of students standing in the entrance hall waiting for you?"

"It's a maze," she replied, "on the Quidditch field. The Triwizard Cup is hidden in the middle of it. Very simple, really, but there are obstacles that we have to get past. At the least it should be safer and easier than the first task, though."

"I think anything would be easier than that," Ryan replied.

As Ryan had said, everyone was waiting for Sarin to get back. Almost the whole house was crowded in the common room, even the youngest students, making it a madhouse. In the midst of it nobody had sat on the Champion's Chair-ridiculous, really, how they treated that thing-and it seemed as though the fifth through seventh years had commandeered the chairs and couches, while all the younger students stood. Once it had quieted down enough, Sarin explained what the task was. She saw that numerous students, or so it appeared from the exchange of money, had bet on what the third and final task would be.

She bid them goodnight and went to bed, resolving to practice some useful spells the next day.


	21. Chapter 21, The Theories of Sarin

Ryan slipped into the common room and sat on the couch next to Sarin. "You hear that Krum was attacked?"

"What?" Sarin looked up from the book she had been reading. "By who?"

"You'll never guess. Viktor Krum was attacked by _Bartemius Crouch, _of all people. Last night...after you came back to the castle, apparently."

_Odd, _Sarin thought. She knew that Krum had delayed heading back to the ship, as he had been having a discussion with Potter, but where did Crouch fit into all of this? It was extremely strange that he would attack a Triwizard champion, for even if he wanted one of the Hogwarts students to win, there were certainly much subtler ways of going about it, rather than attacking one of the other champions. "Will he participate in the third task?"

"Oh yeah. He was just Stunned, from what I heard, but it's more the principle of it than anything else."

"How did you hear about that?"

"I overheard a couple of fourth-years talking about it. Gryffindors, I think. Potter's friends. They must have heard it from Potter...he seems to know everything that's going on."

"Potter..." Sarin's mind began to wander. "Him and Krum stayed behind to talk. I wonder if he saw anything."

Ryan shrugged. "Maybe." Changing the subject, he said, "Do you have any idea what you're going to do for the third task?"

"This one's much more obvious. It's just a maze with obstacles-nothing difficult. I don't see where there should be too much trouble." After the first task, this one seemed like a welcome breeze. It had seemed in past tournaments like the third was the most difficult, but in this one, the first, she decided, was the toughest. Facing dragons was certainly worse than going through a maze or rescuing a hostage from the depths of the Black Lake. She vaguely wondered how this one would compare to the previous, whether it would be more difficult or not. It might be easier, if she didn't get lost, of course. That would not be the best place to be heading in the wrong direction. A few too many wrong turns and she could lose.

He nodded. "Good point." He glanced at the book she was holding still. "I really have to go work on a stupid Transfiguration essay. I'll see you."

"All right," she said, skimming through the pages. It was now impossible to concentrate, thoughts of both the maze and Krum's attack filling her head. Why would Crouch have even been on Hogwarts grounds? He hadn't shown up to the second task, but instead, had left his little gofer Weasley to judge. At the time she had assumed that he wasn't well, but now, she doubted it. Crouch attacked Krum-but only Stunned him. That wasn't much of an attack, in the way that it wouldn't do any damage whatsoever. What was the purpose of doing so? Had Crouch Stunned him, and then fled? But again, _what was the purpose? _ Why would Crouch even be on Hogwarts grounds, if he wasn't doing any Tournament business?

_Unless..._Sarin's Slytherin mind came up with other possibilities. What if Crouch wasn't acting of his own accord? He could have been Imperiused, perhaps (although that begged the question of who would have Imperiused Crouch just to Stun Krum), or another person under Polyjuice Potion to look like Crouch. Both of those made a smidgen of sense more than it being Crouch himself, but they still weren't perfect theories. Why would someone have controlled him, or pretended to be him, for the sole purpose of Stunning the Durmstrang champion?

There was something else going on, then, she puzzled. What if this was part of something else, some greater plan that would be revealed later? That, too, was a possibility (and, probably, the most sensible one) although an annoying one. If it was part of a grand scheme, then she would be stuck wondering about this until it was all revealed. But she was nothing if not Slytherin, and Slytherins were cunning, and cunning required patience. She would wait. This would all be revealed in time. It had to be.

She headed up to her dormitory, carrying her books, hoping that maybe, she could get something ingrained into her mind in there, but instead, she found all three of her dorm-mates already in the room. Mimi and Risa were chattering on about the attack on Viktor Krum-apparently Ryan hadn't been the only one to overhear Potter's friends talking, whether he was all right, and whether he would appreciate them getting him a gift. Evanna wasn't contributing much to the conversation, but not attempting to study, either. She was flipping through an issue of Witch Weekly, trying her best to block out the other two girls.

Sarin flopped onto her bed, setting the books at one end. "I never see you two studying," she said to Mimi and Risa.

"We _study," _Mimi said. "We just don't let it take up all our time. I swear, you're going Ravenclaw on us this year."

"I am not," Sarin snapped. "I'd just rather not fail, or spend all my time ogling Krum, who, I might add, is not even particularly attractive."

"To you," Risa singsonged. "You like the blond type."

"Really, do you two have nothing better to do than discuss romance, either between one of you and Viktor Krum, or between Ryan and I?"

"Well, the you-and-Ryan thing is just so _obvious," _Mimi said. "After the whole incident in the common room, and now with you two sneaking off every chance you can get? Not to mention that both of you are missing for the whole afternoon on every Saturday and Sunday...I do wonder what you two are doing, although I have a pretty good idea."

Sarin knew that Mimi's 'pretty good idea' was more along the lines of Sarin and Ryan getting naked somewhere. There was absolutely no way that she ever would have guessed they were practicing Unforgivable Curses in the Forbidden Forest-that sort of thing was not a common situation, even among Slytherins. She was a bit disappointed that their absence had been noted, although she had expected it to happen at some point, but it was better for everyone to assume that her and Ryan were off having sex than doing Dark magic in the forest.

Of course, that didn't make it any less embarrassing.

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A/N: PHEW! That chapter was a bit difficult to write-the end was kind of fun, though. Anyway, JKR owns all, and I don't own anything, which you already know. Disclaimers are annoying. Thanks for reading and please review.


	22. Chapter 22, More Conversations

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I don't.

Sarin wandered around the castle, somewhat bored. She was caught up on all her essays, and had decided to take a break from studying for a little while. She wasn't sure exactly where she was going, and so, when she heard someone call her name, she jumped at the opportunity to relieve her boredom. She turned around, looking for the person, to find that it was Potter. He had become somewhat less annoying in her eyes, although, him being a Gryffindor and her a Slytherin, there was a little of the annoyance left over. She raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Yesterday..." he paused, unsure how to put what he wanted to say into words, "I was in Dumbledore's office. He had this thing to put his memories in called a Pensieve, and I, well-"

"Snooped?" Sarin guessed. _Gryffindors._

_"_Yes," he admitted. "The memory I saw-well, there were a couple-but I saw some people being sent to Azkaban. One of them...the woman...she looked just like you."

"Who, my mother?" Now she was interested. If only there was a way for her to see that memory, but there certainly wasn't. She was curious, though, having never really known her parents. She had been a toddler when they were sent to Azkaban, and though she remembered vague things about them, these did not count as real memories. In that way her and Potter were alike, for neither person had ever seen their parents, and, in both cases, the Dark Lord had (directly for Potter, indirectly for Sarin) taken them away.

"I suppose..." He paused. "They were being imprisoned for doing the Cruciatus Curse-"

"On Longbottom's parents. I already knew that." She didn't mention the argument in the greenhouse so many months before, deciding that was not an important piece of information to share. "They wanted information."

"Which the Longbottoms didn't have," Potter said quietly. "You know they're insane?"

"I knew that too," Sarin said impatiently, growing tired of the conversation now that nothing interesting was going to be revealed from it. "Anyway, I have to...get back to my dormitory." She didn't have to, but there was no use staying and talking to the fourth year if she wasn't going to get anything out of the conversation. He might have said something as she walked away, but if he did, she did not hear it.

Her mind, spurred on by the short talk with Potter, turned to her parents. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. She didn't know much about them, apart from how they had been Slytherins while at school (of course) and were Death Eaters. The story of their imprisonment followed her around constantly, but she didn't know much about _them, _just the tale of why they were in Azkaban. It would have been nice to know something about them. It would have been better for their imprisonment to have been later in her life, so that she could have things to remember about her parents, not just flashes of dark hair and eyes and black robes. She didn't know of any traits of theirs, what they had enjoyed in school...

She shook her head to clear it. It was ridiculous to be so sentimental. If she really wanted information on her parents after she got out of school, she could visit Narcissa, her mother's sister, and ask for it, for that woman would surely know. It was stupid to dwell on things like that when there was no point. She would find Narcissa Black-Malfoy, she believed it was now-over the summer or perhaps after she graduated from Hogwarts (it didn't really matter, as she was of age now) and talk then. She couldn't go her whole life without knowing a shred of information about them. After all, she wouldn't be able to actually ask her parents-they would be in Azkaban for the rest of their lives. Of course, there was the possibility of a visit...but did Azkaban even allow visitors? That was something that she'd have to check.

She continued to the Slytherin common room, stopping when she saw Evanna. "I can't believe how soon the third task is," the blonde girl said. "It's not even a month away. Are you prepared?"

"It's simple," Sarin replied offhandedly. "Just a maze. The first task was much more difficult, if you ask me. Of course, the oaf Hagrid is providing creatures for obstacles, and who knows what sort of things he would come up with."

"I've heard he has half-manticores that he calls Blasting Scutes or something of the sort," Evanna said. "Hopefully none of those show up."

"Half-manticores? Is that even legal?"

"Probably not, but he has Dumbledore's seal of approval." Evanna sighed. "I really do hope you win, Sarin."

"So do I."

Evanna chuckled. "At least you're in first place. That's always a good sign. The Beauxbatons girl is completely out of the running. She didn't do well at any of the tasks so far. I suppose she must be decent at magic, in order to be chosen in the first place, but it's certainly not showing. As far as Krum...he's one to look out for. Durmstrang teaches Dark Arts, although I doubt he'd dare to use anything too Dark in front of anyone." _Neither would I, _Sarin thought, although she said nothing and let Evanna continue. "As far as Potter, well, he's proven himself a little, but still, he is only a fourth year, after all. You've got much more experience, that's for sure."

"Plus I can run faster, since I'm about five inches taller," Sarin joked.

"That too."

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**A/N: Yay! Well, I hope you're all enjoying it so far, and thanks for all the favorites and alerts! We're steadily nearing the end, probably ten or so more chapters to go, although I'm not quite sure yet. Thank you for reading and please review!**


	23. Chapter 23, The Third Task

The time before the third task passed quickly. Much of Sarin's spare time was spent with Ryan, free time during the day spent in the Forbidden Forest practicing Unforgivable Curses, and free time at night spent in some deserted classroom or corridor, exploring one another's bodies with wandering hands and mouths. It seemed sudden, then, the approach of the task, which was on the same day as the final exams that every Hogwarts student but the two champions had to take. Because she didn't have exams, Sarin had diminished her studying until it was next to nothing, doing so only when an essay needed to be written. The other students were caught up in a mess of books, frantically cramming facts into their brain in a way that was almost amusing, now that she didn't have to do so herself.

During exams, Sarin sat in the back row, casually flipping through a book. She was exempt from taking the exams but still had to attend-it was a stupid rule, but really not worth complaining about. After all, she had been saved from all that studying and wondering if she had passed, so having to sit there and occupy herself wasn't that much of a pain. Her nerves were on edge, although she tried not to show it too much. The final task of the Triwizard Tournament was here. This was the task that would determine who won the glory (and the thousand Galleons, although that wasn't as important since she had access to her parents' expansive vaults at Gringotts). It was exciting and scary, at the same time.

The morning of the third task the champions gathered in a chamber off the Great Hall to greet their families. Sarin stayed off to the side, as her family was presently in Azkaban, and could not exactly come watch. Potter's parents were dead, but even he had the Weasleys supporting him...rather annoying, really, but she tried not to let it get to her as she leaned against the wall, glancing through a last minute book of hexes and jinxes that might come in handy for getting past obstacles.

At dinner that day Ludo Bagman and Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge had joined the teachers at the staff table. Bagman, as always, looked cheerful and excited-did that man ever get sad?-but Fudge looked quite stern. That probably came with the territory, Sarin supposed as she picked at her food. A perky Minister wouldn't do very well with the serious side of the job, which was much broader and common than the lighter side. She tried to focus on that subject for a while to keep her mind off the final task, but that didn't work very well. She barely ate much, and when Dumbledore stood up, signaling the end of the meal, she was glad. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "in five minutes' time I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Everyone clapped as Sarin, Potter, Fleur, and Krum stood up and left, along with Bagman, and walked down to the Quidditch pitch. While a month ago it had been quite different, with the two-foot-high hedges all over, now it was completely unrecognizable. The outer hedge must have been twenty feet high, and there was no way to see over them or through them. The gap in front of them, the entrance to the maze, led into a passageway which seemed dark, and Sarin wondered if the task was being held at night just to make this even more difficult, even more eerie.

Five minutes passed, and the stands began to fill. Four figures approached the pitch, and as they got closer Sarin could see that they were Hagrid, Moody, McGonagall, and Flitwick. "We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said McGonagall. "If you get into difficulty and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?" The four champions nodded, and then the patrollers left, stationing themselves each at a point around the maze.

Bagman pointed his wand at himself, muttering the Sonorus Charm to magnify his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin. Let me remind you how the points currently stand. Tied in first place with eighty-five points each, Miss Sarin Lestrange and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School." The cheers and applause were tremendous. It seemed as though the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the crowd were trying to outdo one another. "In second place, with eighty points, Mr. Viktor Krum of Durmstrang Institute." The applause was loud, but still diminished-it seemed like most of the people applauding were either politely doing so, or girls who had a crush on the champion. "And in third place, Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy." The applause was similar to Krum's, although this time it seemed to be polite people, or boys who were in lust with the part-veela.

"So on my whistle," Bagman continued, "Harry and Sarin! Three...two...one..." He blew his whistle, short and sharp, causing Sarin and Potter to hurry forward into the maze.

It was dark, and entering the maze effectively silenced the crowd-or perhaps they had just shut up-adding to the creepy feeling. Sarin lit her wand, noticing Potter doing the same, and held it aloft, looking for anything that might be an obstacle. It was soon that they came to a fork, and Sarin hurried right while Potter hurried left. It was even more nerve-wracking, if such a thing was possible, to be walking through the maze alone. She heard the whistle again-Krum had entered the maze, and she sped up a little, not wanting to lose just because she was slower.

She nearly missed the odd creature laying in wait at the end of the path, quickly realizing that was the half-manticore thing Hagrid had been breeding-what had Evanna called it? A Blastened Scute? Whatever it was, it was huge, many feet long, and it shot fire. Sarin dived toward the hedge, blasting a hole in it and rolling through, running as fast as she could. The fire had caught the edge of her sleeve, causing it to smoke a little, but it didn't appear to have done any real damage. She nearly bumped right into Potter, who raised his eyebrows at her disheveled state.

"Hagrid's stupid Scute things," she gasped. "They're about ten feet long." She shook her head and ran along another path, keen to put even more distance between herself and the creature, in addition to hurrying past Potter. She did the Four-Point Charm quickly and adjusted her direction as soon as she came to another fork, pausing only slightly when she heard a girl's scream. Fleur, obviously. Well, she thought, that's one champion down, two to go, plus finding the center of the maze already. This really wasn't the best time to have no sense of direction.

She saw Krum at the end of this path, heading in her direction. She mentally snorted-he was going the wrong way. But...why was he pointing his wand at her. "What are you doing?" she shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She glanced behind her to see nothing. He was pointing his wand at her, not at some obstacle behind her. What was wrong with him?

"_Crucio!"_

Sarin tried to dodge it but couldn't move in time-dodging a spell was way more difficult then it sounded, actually. She toppled backwards in a way that would have been comical, if not for the seriousness of the situation, already screaming as the pain from the curse swept through her. It was, indeed, torturous, undiluted agony that affected every part of her. She could see why the Longbottoms went mad...she felt for them a little, now, (well...a _little)_ she could see what they had gone through. It was absolutely horrible, and it had to stop, oh it _had _to, because she couldn't survive if he kept this up...

Over her screams she faintly heard a yell of "_Stupefy!"_ and then it all stopped. Panting, she lay there, glancing up to see Potter still holding his wand out, Krum fallen until he lay only a few feet from her. "Are you okay?" Potter said roughly.

"Yeah...I don't believe it...he just came from that side and had his wand on me..." Sarin forced herself to stand, although she was still shaking from the aftereffects of the curse. She glanced down at the fallen form of Krum, whose chest was slowly rising and falling. She fought the urge to unpleasantly wake him up by performing that same curse. It wouldn't do to be sent to Azkaban right now, not when she was so close.

"I thought he was all right," Potter said.

"So did I," Sarin agreed, now fighting the overwhelming temptation to kick Krum.

"Did you hear Fleur scream a few minutes ago?" Potter asked.

"Yeah...do you reckon he got her, too?"

"I don't know..." Potter said slowly, letting the sentence trail off.

"Should we leave him here?" Sarin said viciously, gesturing toward the ground.

"No. We should send up red sparks. Someone'll come and collect him. Otherwise he'd be eaten by a skrewt."

"He'd deserve it," Sarin muttered as Potter shot up red sparks, which hovered above the spot where Krum lay. "Well, I suppose we'd better go on."

"Oh, yeah...right." Potter nodded and the two hurried on, splitting up when they reached the first fork. Sarin half-ran, despite her body's protests not to. She'd have time to rest later. It was strange, though, how it was down to two. What on earth would make Krum decide to use an Unforgivable to win the Cup? It hadn't even crossed her mind-playing dirty had, but using an Unforgivable Curse against one of the others? Never. It was too risky...she was pretty sure the Triwizard Tournament did not have an 'anything goes' policy, and that such a thing could cause the Durmstrang champion to be sent to Azkaban. Why on earth would he want to risk it?

She hurried on, turning right to see a light at the end of the path, nearly a hundred yards away. The Cup. The bloody Triwizard Cup was right in front of her, nearly. She sprinted, ignoring her screaming muscles, ignoring a dark shape on her left, and then, embarrassingly enough, tripping in her haste. A gigantic spider-an Acromantula? Really?-bore down upon her. She saw Potter approach, screaming the Stunning Spell over and over, but nothing worked. She pointed her wand at it and yelled, "_STUPEFY!" _just as Potter did the same, and the two spells worked where one had not. The spider fell onto its side, flattening the hedge. Sarin threw herself to her feet and ran, feeling Potter right on her side.

They were close. She had the advantage of longer legs, yes, being four or so inches taller, but he was in prime condition. He hadn't been Cruciated. They pulled up alongside one another as they reached the plinth where the cup stood, and it happened that they both reached out, their arms directly level with one another, each grabbing an arm of the Cup at the exact same time. She caught a glimpse of Potter's ecstatic face before she felt a jerk behind her navel, her feet leaving the ground as the cup pulled her and Potter forward in a swirl of color.

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**YES! Over 2,000 words...this chapter was really fun to write, actually. Anyway, now things will get interesting...so PLEASE REVIEW! **

**-lunalestrange4**


	24. Chapter 24, Flesh, Blood, and Bone

Disclaimer: Am I a published author? No. Therefore, I don't own Harry Potter.

Sarin and Potter landed on the ground as the Triwizard Cup/Portkey reached its destination. She glanced around; they had completely left Hogwarts grounds. Nothing looked familiar, and even the surrounding mountains were gone. They had obviously traveled dozens, perhaps hundreds, of miles. _Odd, _she thought. _I thought that all the tasks were to be held on Hogwarts grounds, as it was the host school..._They were in a graveyard, but it looked like it hadn't been entered recently, for everything was overgrown and not touched; it didn't look like even any animals had been in recently. Sarin climbed to her feet, glancing down at the Portkey Cup. "Did anyone tell you that the Cup was a Portkey?" she asked. It would be so annoying if he had known and she hadn't...

"Nope," he replied, looking around the graveyard. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I have no idea." Sarin peered around as well. She had the feeling someone was observing them, but perhaps that was just the creepy nature of their surroundings. "It doesn't fit with what the third task was like. Why would we go from a maze to a graveyard? The two things are completely unrelated. I'm beginning to think this is a trap of some sort." She pulled her wand out and saw Potter doing the same, just as she heard a noise from in front of them. "Someone's coming."

They squinted through the darkness, noticing as the noises grew closer and finally, a figure came into view. The figure was short and obviously carrying something that looked like a bundle of robes, although it was being held as if it was a _baby, _of all things. He-or at least Sarin assumed it was a he, from the lack of womanly curves-was wearing a cloak that obscured his facial features. It approached slowly but steadily, stopping at a gravestone about six feet from where the two of them were standing. At that point Potter dropped to his knees, putting his hands over his face; he appeared to be in great pain. Sarin stared down at him, clueless, as a high, cold voice that seemed to come from the bundle of robes said, "_Restrain them both." _

Sarin did not like the sound of that, and she raised her wand, preparing to defend herself, but the short man was quicker, hitting her with a nonverbal Body-Bind. Her limbs crashed together and she fell over, still clutching her wand in her frozen hand. She was dimly aware that Potter was still beside her in agony, although in her limited range of sight, she could not see much. She could hear the sounds of something being dragged away-oh, that was Potter, being dragged away by the short man-and after a few minutes he returned, grasping her upper body and pulling her to a gravestone, propping her up against it and, in one fluid movement, undoing the Body-Bind, then conjuring cords around her body that tied her to the gravestone. Potter was in a similar predicament.

This really was not good.

The bundle of robes was near the foot of the grave that held Potter, and it was moving in an almost fretful manner. It must have been alive, then, although exactly what it was Sarin had no idea. The man was now pushing an immense stone cauldron toward the grave. It seemed to be full of liquid, as it made splashing, slopping noises as it moved; the robed thing was writhing around more persistently. The man busied himself with a wand at the bottom of the cauldron and made flames leap up beneath it. The surface of the liquid began to bubble and send out fiery sparks while steam rose from it; Sarin had never seen quite a potion. What exactly could this be used for? Sarin had a feeling that she was about to find out.

"_Hurry,"_ the cold voice said again, coming from the bundle of robes. Lovely. A sentient, baby-sized thing in a bundle of robes, ordering the short man around, ordering him to tie up two students...this really did not seem like something that dealt with the Triwizard Tournament. Sarin recalled her reasoning from before, that Crouch's death could have been part of some major plan. What if this was part of that major plan? The whole thing seemed quite Dark, certainly...what was going on here?

"It is ready, Master," the short man replied.

"_Now..." _the sentient baby-sized cold-voiced thing said. The short man pulled open the bundle of robes, and the sight of what was inside caused both Potter and Sarin to let out yells. The...thing...was human-shaped, although Sarin had never seen any human that resembled this. It was hairless, with a flat, snakelike face in which gleamed red eyes...the creature itself was a dark reddish-black that looked raw. It had thin arms and legs and looked very frail. It was repulsive, more so than any of the pictures Sarin had ever seen in the Dark books she perused with Ryan, and the things that they did in the forest seemed like the most Light magic compared to this. This was much worse, so much worse, than two students practicing Unforgivables in the Forbidden Forest.

The short man reached down and lifted the Dark creature into the cauldron. It vanished into the depths, hissing as it hit the surface (or was that the liquid? Sarin couldn't be sure) and falling to the bottom with a soft thudding noise. The man then spoke, raising his wand and closing his eyes. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The ground at Potter's feet cracked, and a trickle of dust rose into the air and fell into the cauldron. The liquid turned a vivid blue, brighter than the Ravenclaw blue. The man whimpered then, pulling out a dagger from his robes. "Flesh...of the servant...w-willingly given...you will...revive...your master." He stretched his hand out in front of him, over the cauldron, holding the dagger over it with the other hand.

Sarin looked away. Some things were just _too _gruesome, and although she did not see the act, she heard a splash as the man's hand fell into the cauldron, and the scream of pain as it was severed. The potion turned a fiery scarlet color that flashed through the night as the man panted, whimpering with pain still, approaching Potter. "Blood of the enemy..." he gasped. "forcibly taken...you will resurrect...your foe." Potter could do nothing to prevent it as the knife was pressed against his arm, cutting it. The man held a glass vial to the cut, and a few drops of blood poured inside. He staggered back to the cauldron, dripping the blood into it. Instantly the liquid turned a blinding, bright white that forced Sarin to look away again, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as if that would block out the brightness. She could only hope that it didn't blind them...it sent sparks in all directions then formed steam rising from it, obliterating the brightness. Sarin dared to look as the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletal, rising from the cauldron.

"Robe me, Wormtail," said the same high, cold voice as the man to whom it belonged stepped out of the cauldron. In any other situation Sarin would have laughed at the unfortunate short man's nickname. Not now...this was too serious, too Dark, even for her. This was too much for a sixth year to be dealing with, even if said sixth year was of age and proficient in two Unforgivable Curses.

Wormtail grabbed the robes from the ground and pulled them over the tall man's head; once he was robed, he stepped out of the mist so that Potter and Sarin could see him clearly. His face was white as a skull, which fit with his thin body, with wide scarlet eyes, and slits for nostrils. Sarin had never seen the man before, but she knew without a doubt what had just happened, and who this person was. This really was not good.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

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**Lovely chapter, innit? *smirks* AND SARIN DOESN'T DIE! YAY! I really didn't think that Voldemort would want to kill the daughter of his two most devoted followers...I can imagine that he would think she could be useful.**


	25. Chapter 25, The Death Eaters

Sarin watched the man, if Lord Voldemort could be called such, as he examined his own new body. His red eyes gleamed as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the sniveling Wormtail, who was thrown into the air and against a gravestone. He crumpled at the foot of it, still sobbing in pain from the bleeding stump of his right arm. "My Lord," he choked. "my Lord, you promised...you did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," Voldemort said lazily.

"Oh...Master, thank you..." Wormtail extended the bleeding stump, a gruesome sight to see even still, but the Dark Lord merely laughed.

"The other arm, Wormtail." He bent down and pulled out Wormtail's good arm, rolling up the sleeve to reveal a bright red tattoo of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth: the Dark Mark. It had been sent into the sky at the Quidditch World Cup many months ago; had it been a sign that Voldemort was growing stronger? The Dark Mark hadn't been seen for a dozen years at that point, and it couldn't have been mere coincidence that nine or ten months after it was spotted for the first time in many years, Lord Voldemort rose again. "It is back," he said quietly. "they will all have noticed it, and now we shall see...now we shall know." He pressed his finger to the mark on Wormtail's arm; the crying man let out a loud howl as the tattoo was touched, and when the Dark Lord removed his finger, it was plain to see that the tattoo had turned black. "How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it? And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He paced up and down the graveyard, staying within fifteen or so feet of Potter, Sarin, and Wormtail. After a minute, he paused directly in front of Potter. "You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father. A Muggle and a fool, very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child...and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself in death." He laughed again, still pacing. A snake could be seen circling nearby; it was quite large, larger than most snakes, and Sarin wondered if this was Voldemort's, as again, it was too much to assume that it could be coincidence, not after all that was happening.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter?" Voldemort continued his monologue. "My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him, but he abandoned her when she told him what she was. He didn't like magic, my father. He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage, but I vowed to find him. I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name...Tom Riddle." His red eyes darted between the graves. "Listen to me, reliving family history...why, I must be growing quite sentimental. But look, Harry...my true family returns."

The air was full of cloaks swishing and the faint pops of Apparition. Sarin could see figures slowly and cautiously approaching; all of them were hooded and masked. One at a time they approached and kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes before forming a circle that enclosed Potter, Sarin, Wormtail, and Voldemort himself. There were gaps in the circle, as though more were expected to come, although the area was silent. Nobody else was coming, it seemed. "Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said. "Thirteen years since we last met, although you answer my call as though it were yesterday. We are still united under the Dark Mark, then...or are we?" He paused. "I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A shiver ran through the circle, but no one dared to speak or move. "I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact-such prompt appearances! I ask myself...why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?" Still nobody dared to respond to him. "And I answer myself, they must have believed me broken. They thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment...and then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort...perhaps they now pay allegiance to another. Perhaps that champion of commoners, Mudbloods, and Muggles...Albus Dumbledore?"

The members of the circle stirred at the mention of Dumbledore's name. A few muttered and shook their heads in disgust and disapproval. Voldemort did not pay any attention to them. "It is a disappointment to me...I confess myself disappointed."

One of the men suddenly flung himself at Voldemort's feet, trembling. "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort laughed again, a cruel, cold sound. "_Crucio!"_

The man on the ground shrieked, writhing around in pain as the curse swept through him. Sarin shuddered, the memory of what had happened to her still all too fresh in her mind. She could understand what the man was going through now; thoughts zipped around her mind as she wished fervently that this was not happening, that she was not a bystander to some Dark gathering...it was all too soon. She was too young even in her own mind for this sort of thing, and she wanted simply to go back to Hogwarts and have everything be normal again, to be able to practice with Ryan in the Forbidden Forest, but only that. She wasn't ready for any of _this._

Voldemort stopped the curse, and the Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, still panting. "Get up, Avery. Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years...I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has already paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?" He glanced down at Wormtail as Avery crept back to his place in the circle, still shaken. "You returned to me not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes Master," moaned the sobbing man. "please...please..."

"Yet you helped me return to my body," the Dark Lord said coldly. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me...and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers." He raised his wand and whirled it through the air. A streak of silver hung shining in its wake, forming itself into a replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight. It soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtail's stump.

His sobbing stopped. Breathing roughly, he stared in disbelief at the silver hand and flexed his fingers, picking up a small twig and crushing it. "My Lord...it is beautiful...thank you...thank you..." He scrambled forward, still on his hands and knees, and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said the Dark Lord as Wormtail, too, took his spot in the circle. Voldemort approached the man on Wormtail's right. "Lucius, my slippery friend, I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius. Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay, but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's swift reply, his voice smooth. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me-" He was cut short by Voldemort speaking again.

"Yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer. Yes, I know all about that, Lucius. You have disappointed me...I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course. You are merciful, thank you," Lucius said smoothly.

Voldemort took a few steps, pausing at the space that separated Malfoy and the next Death Eater. "The Lestranges should stand here," he said, glancing at Sarin, who squirmed. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me...when Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams." Sarin couldn't help but wonder when this Azkaban breakout was going to occur. "The dementors will join us...they are our natural allies. We will recall the banished giants. I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear..." He walked around the circle, passing some Death Eaters by in silence, pausing at others to speak to them.

Once he was finished with that he reached the largest gap of all, where at least five people could have stood comfortably with a little room to move about. "And here," he said, "we have six missing Death Eaters. Three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return...he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever...he will be killed, of course. And one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

That confused Sarin; Voldemort had _just _been reborn barely an hour ago, only with the aid of Wormtail, and then everybody had showed up. It was impossible to imagine any way that somebody could have helped the Dark Lord without them knowing about it, unless it had happened before this. From what it seemed, Voldemort had been sentient, at least for a little while-how else could he have known about the events at the Quidditch World Cup, or how Sarin's parents had been imprisoned thirteen years before? Had somebody else been there for him besides Wormtail?

Sarin's musings were cut short by Voldemort speaking once again. He seemed to like the sound of his own voice. "He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his effort that our young friends arrived here tonight. Yes, Harry Potter has kindly joined us for our rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

"Master," came the voice of Lucius Malfoy, "we crave to know...we beg you to tell us how you have achieved this miracle...how you managed to return to us."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort, "and it begins-and ends-with my young friend Harry here."

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**Well...I had to split this up, as it would have been way too long otherwise. The next chapter continues directly from this point, and will also be part of the corresponding chapter in GoF, 'The Death Eaters'. Anyway, none of this belongs to me, it's all from the lovely J.K. Rowling, but PLEASE REVIEW! Next chapter should be up on Thursday.**


	26. Chapter 26, The Monologue of Voldemort

Disclaimer: Am I a published author? No. Therefore, Harry Potter is not mine.

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Lucius Malfoy's voice again spoke from underneath the hood of the man to Wormtail's right. "If I may be so bold as to ask, my Lord, but who is the girl next to Potter?"

_Lovely, _Sarin thought. She hadn't expected her presence to go completely unnoticed, but had hoped for it. Getting out of this alive was really what she wanted, her Slytherin sense of self-preservation kicking in, and she knew that in a circle of people who were trained in Dark magic (much more so than being half-decent at two of the Unforgivables by practicing in the forest at Hogwarts) the best way to stay alive was by not having any attention called to her. Voldemort barely looked at her as he explained, though. "The Lestranges' daughter...surely you noticed the resemblance. She arrived with Harry Potter here tonight, which was unexpected, but not altogether bad."

He stepped closer to Potter, beginning his story. "You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall. You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him." Sarin wanted to roll her eyes-who didn't know this?-but decided that would not be smart at all. "Unwittingly, she provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen. I could not touch the boy. His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice, an old magic I should have remembered. I was foolish to overlook it, but no matter. I can touch him now."

Voldemort raised one long finger and pressed it to Harry's cheek; the boy looked like he would scream in pain. The Dark Lord took his finger away and continued. "I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Pain beyond pain, nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost; but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know. I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal, to conquer death, and now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked, for I had not been killed, although the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself, for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand."

"I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist. I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited. Surely one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me...one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body. But I waited in vain." A shiver rippled through the circle once again.

"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals, snakes, of course, being my preference, but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill-adapted to perform magic, and my possession of them shortened their lives...none of them lasted long." Sarin shifted uncomfortably in the ropes that kept her on the gravestone. How long was he going to go on? Did he really like listening to himself speak that much?

"Then, four years ago, the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard, young, foolish, and gullible, wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of, for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school. He was easy to bend to my will...he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted, thwarted once again by Harry Potter."

Ah, Sarin thought, the Quirrell fiasco. She had been a third-year then, and had expressed open disdain for the stuttering, awkward young man who had been their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for that time. She remembered at the end of the year, waking up one morning to tales of a fantastical story in which first-year Harry Potter defeated Quirrell from getting something called the 'Sorcerer's Stone', and Quirrell was dead, and somehow Quirrell had been combined with Voldemort. It was supposed to be a secret, but the whole school had found out, which tended to happen at Hogwarts.

"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as I ever had been. I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you - I did fear that I might never regain my powers. Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour. I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess, and I had given up hope now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me."

A few of the Death Eaters in the circle shifted uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice of them. "And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last. A servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding...helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail?" Sarin was vaguely confused. "His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them."

The man named Wormtail fidgeted slightly as the Dark Lord continued his story. "But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food, and who should he meet there, but Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic. Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration, but Wormtail, displaying a presence of mind I never would have expected from him, convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll." Sarin couldn't help but wonder how the man had done this, as he was quite ugly and ratlike in his appearance.

"He overpowered her...he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams, for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information. She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things, but the means I used to get information were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

Sarin remembered hearing something about a Ministry witch who had gone missing over the summer; this must have been her. "Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I need, and poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth...a spell or two of my own invention, a little help from my dear Nagini..." Voldemort's eyes flickered toward a circling snake that was slowly slithering around the circle. "A potion concocted from unicorn blood and the snake venom Nagini provided...I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel."

The horrifying baby-like creature, then, Sarin assumed. Of course, that was not exactly 'almost human' in her eyes, but that wasn't exactly the point. "There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower; I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength. I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant."

Wormtail squirmed again, stroking his silver hand with the finger of his opposite hand. "My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe...Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not? Any wizard who hated me, as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago, for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins also. But how to get at Harry Potter?"

Yes, Sarin thought, that was a very good question. "For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there. Then, of course, there was the Quidditch Cup, and I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from both his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So, how could I take him?"

Sarin couldn't help but think that he had already asked this question, and that this monologue was going on far too long. "Why, by using Bertha Jorkins' information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament - that he touched the Triwizard Cup first, the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is, the boy you all believed had been my downfall..."

She knew that something important was bound to happen soon as Voldemort moved slowly forward to face Harry Potter, the two enemies meeting once again, although in such different circumstances than the night so many years ago, on Halloween. The Dark Lord raised his wand. "_Crucio!" _The boy squirmed in the ropes, yelling loudly in pain, eyes rolling around in their sockets, and then the curse ended and he lay there, dangling limply in the ropes. "You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could have ever been stronger than me. But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all. When there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

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**Good thing I split the previous chapter and this one, huh? It would have been almost 4000 words. Anyway, Voldemort's looooong speech is done, and we can finally see some action in the next chapter. Please review.**


	27. Chapter 27, Priori Incantatem

Disclaimer: Everything is JK Rowling's. But you already know that.

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Wormtail approached Potter, cutting through the ropes that bound him with a swift wave of his wand. The Death Eaters closed the circle, so that there were no gaps where all the missing ones would have stood, surrounding Voldemort, Sarin, and Potter even more closely. Sarin looked around for her wand - it lay twenty feet away, outside the circle and near where the Triwizard Cup Portkey still lay, illuminating a faint light, which was what allowed her to see the shape of her wand. If only she could get to that area, then she would be able to escape. Of course, this was much easier said than done, as she was surrounded by Death Eaters, Voldemort was only a few feet away, and she was tied to a gravestone. Escaping would not be a simple task.

Her escape plans, nonexistent though they were, were cut short by Voldemort speaking. "You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" His voice was quiet and smooth. Potter didn't answer, looking nervous and awkward but also, somehow, determined. "We bow to each other, Harry." The Dark Lord bowed, but only slightly, and in a way that almost suggested mocking. "Come, the nuances must be observed. Dumbledore would like you to show manners. Bow to death, Harry." The Death Eaters were laughing. Voldemort raised his wand. "I said, bow." He performed a spell that caused the boy to bend over, as though some force were pressing down upon him, and then released him. "Very good. And now, you face me, like a man, straight-backed and proud, the way your father died. And now, we duel."

Before Potter had even lifted his wand, which had been returned to him by Wormtail when he was unbound from the ropes, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse, thrown to the ground as he flailed about. It stopped, and he scrambled to his feet, shaking and stumbling. He staggered into a few Death Eaters, who shoved him forward toward Voldemort again, who looked mildly pleased with the whole situation. "A little break, a little pause. That hurt, didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?" Again, Potter did not answer. Whether his defiance was annoying, Voldemort did not show. "I asked you whether you want me to do that again. Answer me. _Imperio."_

Potter stayed still a few seconds before yelling, "I WON'T!" Somehow, he had managed to break through the Imperius Curse, a feat that Sarin grudgingly admitted was impressive, like it or not. It was well-known that very few witches and wizards could resist that curse, and here was a fourteen-year-old boy doing what many adults had not been able to do. The Death Eaters stopped laughing at this point, frozen and silent now that the possibility that this would be easy was gone.

"You won't?" Voldemort said quietly. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die...Perhaps another little dose of pain." He raised his wand, the incantation for the Cruciatus Curse on his lips, but this time Potter dodged, throwing himself behind the gravestone Sarin was tied against. The curse missed her by an inch, cracking the stone, She wiggled, causing the cracked piece, which was quite large, to fall off. Squirming some more, she realized that, if she continued, the possibility of her getting free, at least of her bonds, was a distinct one.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry. You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out...come out and play, then. It will be quick...it might even be painless. I would not know...I have never died..."

Potter crouched behind Sarin's headstone another minute, a minute during which she was on edge, worried that with each passing second, the Dark Lord would grow more and more impatient until he decided to get her and the gravestone out of the way. That wouldn't be good. Although she was not hoping for Potter's death - she was still trying to sort out exactly where she would fit into all this - she did want him to move. At this exact point he threw himself out, yelling, "_Expelliarmus!"_ while at the same time, the Dark Lord cried, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Somehow the jets of light met in midair, the red one from Potter and the green one from Voldemort. A narrow beam of gold light connected them, and then the two were lifted into the air, carried away to a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves and people. The Death Eaters rushed over, forgetting Sarin, who wiggled around until the ropes, which had been loosened greatly by a large chunk of the gravestone falling off, were even more loose and she was able to slip out of them. She ran over to her wand, picking it up, but something stopped her from grabbing the Triwizard Cup immediately.

She knew that first of all, she didn't _really _want to leave Potter at the mercy of the Dark Lord, no matter what the Slytherin side of her wanted her to think. She held something for the kid - the tiniest bit of fondness, perhaps, although she would never admit it - and she didn't want to see him dead. Second she knew that returning to Hogwarts and saying that she had left Harry Potter facing off with Voldemort and left to save her own skin, well, that wouldn't go over too well, not with the Gryffindor-favoriting headmaster and how many of the students were now supporting Potter. It was, then, a combination of these two factors that made her pause, deciding that she would stay and see if Potter could make his way over to her. There was no way she was going to run over there and shove the cup into his hands. She wouldn't risk that. But wait and see? She could do that.

There was a golden web encircling the two, and an odd noise was filling the air - it was beautiful and yet unearthly, and Sarin tried to figure out what it possibly could be. Perhaps phoenix song, although the chance of there being a random phoenix in the area was nonexistent. Potter and the Dark Lord were still facing off, their wands still connecting with one another, and then shadows were appearing; they looked like ghosts from this angle, although she was unsure how such a thing could even happen. She couldn't hear anything from this distance; nor could she make out who the shadowy people were. She was tempted to come closer, if only to hear, but decided against such a thing. The Death Eaters were still ignoring her, and she wanted to keep it that way. Her presence was unnoticed, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Suddenly, Potter yelled, "NOW!" and jerked his wand upward, breaking the golden web around himself and the Dark Lord. The shadowy figures closed in upon Voldemort, who was struggling to get away from them. The Death Eaters were unsure of what to do, and they stood, muttering awkwardly as then, Potter jumped down and sprinted full out. There was a yell from Voldemort, and a few curses headed toward the boy; he dodged them by jumping behind another tombstone. Sarin lifted the Portkey with the helpful _Wingardium Leviosa _that had been taught back in first year, and hurtled towards Potter, magicking the cup along with her.

They collided, both reaching out for the Cup before even bothering to untangle themselves from one another. They each caught a handle as Voldemort screamed in fury. Sarin felt the jerk behind her navel as the Portkey activated, bringing them both back toward Hogwarts in a whirl of color...they were going back.

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**I really should be working on more important things...but I had writer's block so I did this. Anyway, I hope you like it, so please review! We're steadily nearing the end.**

**-lunalestrange4**


	28. Chapter 28, Return to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I don't.

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Sarin and Potter landed right in front of the entrance to the maze, still tangled up in a mess of arms and legs, both clutching the Triwizard Cup. Sarin released her half of the Cup, looking up at all the students in the crowd, all of whom were muttering to themselves as Dumbledore and Fudge made their way down. "He's back," Potter whispered as soon as the two men reached them. "He's back. Voldemort." Potter seemed out of it, swaying slightly in place, dropping the Triwizard Cup barely an inch from his own foot. The crowd was muttering louder now, some of them trying to come down to the field, although others were stopping them. She could see Ryan grappling with Montague, who was trying to stop him from reaching the field.

Mad-Eye Moody approached. "I'll take them, Dumbledore...come on, hospital wing..."

"Dumbledore said stay," Potter said thickly, staggering as Moody grasped his arm and started pulling him away.

"You too," Moody said gruffly, gesturing towards Sarin. She caught up with them, brushing dirt and grime off her own robes as they made their way up to the castle and away from the crowds. "What happened?"

"Cup was a Portkey. Took me and Sarin to a graveyard...and then Voldemort was there, Lord Voldemort..." It seemed to be an awkward task for Moody to maneuver Potter up the stairs, but they managed, and soon were entering Moody's office.

"And then?"

"Made a potion...got his body back..."

"The Dark Lord's got his body back? He's returned?"

"And the Death Eaters came...and then we dueled..." If Sarin didn't know better, she would say that Potter was drunk or hung-over, but as that couldn't be the case, she assumed that it was a side-effect of what had just happened.

"You dueled with the Dark Lord?" Moody sounded slightly impressed.

"Got away...my wand...did something funny...I saw my mum and dad, they came out of his wand..."

"Sit down. You'll be all right now, drink this." Moody pushed a cup of what was obviously Pepper-Up Potion into Potter's hands. "Drink it, you'll feel better. Come on, now, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened." His eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Potter as the boy drank the potion and came to, his eyes becoming sharper and more alert as he took in the surrounding office. "Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and from me." Potter's voice was clearer; he sounded much more normal.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?"

"Blood." Potter raised his arm. The sleeve was ripped, and there was an angry red line where Wormtail's dagger had pierced the skin.

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yes, loads of them."

"How did he treat them? Did he forgive them?" It was a strange question to ask, and perhaps Potter knew this, as he didn't answer.

"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here - they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end -" He tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back into his seat. Sarin stood behind the boy in a position that would have seemed protective to anyone looking upon them. Something was strange about this whole situation with Mad-Eye Moody, and she knew it. Things just weren't...right.

"I know who the Death Eater is," Moody said quietly.

"Karkaroff? Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?" Potter's voice was wild.

"Karkaroff?" Moody laughed oddly. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them...but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then - he didn't put my name in the goblet?" Sarin had no idea why Potter was under the assumption that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater; although it seemed to be true, she was unsure how he could have came to that conclusion.

"No. No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

That, Sarin thought, was unexpected. Moody? Auror? Catcher of Dark wizards, secretly a Death Eater? Something didn't add up there.

"No, you didn't...you didn't do that, you can't have done..."

"I assure you I did," Moody said, taking out his wand and pointing it at Potter, keeping a very close eye on Sarin. Blocked by Potter's body, she silently slipped out her wand, in the off-chance that she could defend herself against him. If he started shooting spells...well, she wasn't half-bad at magic, although no way near the level of a trained Auror-slash-Death Eater, or whatever Moody was. Perhaps she could manage to distract him long enough for herself to escape. She wondered if she would get in trouble for using an Unforgivable, if it was to escape...although that, surely would come later. Moody was not done talking, and, like Voldemort, she suspected he might go on for a while.

"I asked you whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless, bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."

"You...what are you talking about?" It was Sarin who spoke this time, and for the first time since she had returned to Hogwarts.

"I told you...I told you two. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free." Strange, Sarin thought sarcastically...generally, the things that Death Eaters hated most were Muggles and/or Mudbloods. "They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry." Moody's face lit up with an insane smile. "Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful...prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all...you."

"You didn't...it can't be you," Potter stammered.

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did. It hasn't been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start, then I knew I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear."

"You! You made Krum perform the Cruciatus Curse on me!" Sarin's wand hand twitched. "You attacked Fleur, and you made Krum attack me!"

"Correct. But I also had to contend with Potter's stupidity. The second task," he said, looking straight at the boy, "that was when I was most afraid I would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint."

"You didn't," Potter said, his voice hoarse. "Sarin gave me that hint."

"Who told her to give you the hint? I did. Even then, you seemed so likely to fail. I was watching all the time, all those hours in the library. Didn't you realize that the book you needed was in your dormitory all along? I planted it there early on. I gave it to the Longbottom boy, remember? _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. _It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. But you did not...you did not...You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all."

"So what could I do?" Moody continued. "Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball that a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether you would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you. You were so long in that lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it." Which wasn't completely fair, Sarin thought, but that was beside the point.

"You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight. I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer edges, and cursed many obstacles out of the way. I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Viktor Krum so that he would attack Miss Lestrange here and lead your path to the cup clear. Which didn't work out exactly as I had planned, but no matter...the Dark Lord has returned. He didn't manage to kill you, Potter, and he so wanted to. Imagine how he will reward me when he finds out I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thing he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter...closer than a son."

"The Dark Lord and I..." Moody's face had grown even more insane as he leered at Potter. "We have much in common. Both of us, for instance, have had very disappointing fathers. Both of us suffered the indignity of being raised by those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Potter burst out. "You're mad!"

"Mad, am I? We'll see. We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side. He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him, and now...I conquer you!" He raised his wand, opening his mouth.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Sarin raised her wand, her mind running through many ways to get herself out of this situation. She imagined that Moody would not be happy that all his secrets were revealed to someone who hadn't even made up her mind on who she supported, and would turn his wand on her when he was finished with Potter. She threw herself out of the way, yanking Potter with her as they fell. Moody's door crashed open, and a male voice bellowed, "STUPEFY!" Moody toppled backwards, falling with a dramatic thunk onto his office floor.

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**Kind of figured I'd have to break this chapter up, too...what is it with villains and monologuing? *lol* Thanks for reading, and please review!**

**-lunalestrange4**


	29. Chapter 29, Veritaserum, Part One

Disclaimer: All hail the Great Goddess Rowling.

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Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall strode into Moody's office, looking around. Moody himself was sprawled on the office floor, unconscious as a result of Dumbledore's powerful Stunning Spell that had hit him just moments before. Sarin and Potter were huddled on the floor, where they had fallen after Sarin dived to avoid whatever spell Moody might have thrown at them, and had pulled Potter with her. Professor McGonagall took quick steps towards the two students. "Come along," she said. "Come along...hospital wing..."

"No," Dumbledore said sharply.

"Dumbledore, they ought to...look, they've been through enough tonight..."

"They will stay, Minerva, because they need to understand. Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. They need to know who has put them through the ordeal suffered tonight, and why."

"Moody," Potter said, still in a state of shock. "How could it have been Moody?"

"That's what I want to know, too," Sarin said, standing and pulling the boy up to his feet as well. "He was an Auror-"

"This is not Alastor Moody," Dumbledore said quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would never have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew, and I followed." He bent down over the unconscious body, pulling a set of keys from the pocket. "Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, and come back here."

Neither of the teachers seemed to find these instructions odd, or if they did, they hid it very well. Sarin was tempted to say something along the lines of, "What the hell is going on?" but decided against it. If her and Potter were going to stay, then they would probably end up knowing everything, including the strange instructions, and what a house-elf and a dog had to do with anything. The Truth Potion was the only thing that she could understand; there was few better ways to interrogate someone than by the use of Veritaserum, which was the most reliable truth-telling potion that there was.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was using the keys on a trunk that had seven locks, and as he placed the key in each lock, it revealed different contents. Sarin barely had time to register that a trunk like that was very useful, and was something that she wouldn't mind having, before the final lock was opened and its contents revealed. Both Sarin and Potter gasped at the sight of a pit, or an underground room of some sort, in which another unconscious Moody was laying. The one in the trunk, though, looked thin and emaciated; one of his eyes was missing, and chunks of hair had apparently been cut off. Dumbledore lightly jumped down into the pit.

"Stunned - controlled by the Imperius Curse - very weak. Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Throw down the impostor's cloak - he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he is not in any immediate danger." Dumbledore caught the cloak that Potter threw down, tucking it around the real Moody before climbing back out, picking up a flask that lay on the table and dumping it onto the office floor. A thick liquid trickled out.

"Polyjuice Potion," Sarin said, recognizing it instantly.

"You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance," Dumbledore said. "For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well-known for it. The impostor needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by so he could continue making the potion. You saw his hair...the impostor has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody may have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done...on the hour...every hour...we shall see." He sat down on an office chair, eyes fixed upon the impostor-Moody, who was still unconscious upon the floor.

Minutes passed, and then the face of the man changed. The scars disappeared, his skin becoming smooth; the mangled nose became smaller and whole. His hair changed to a straw color, retracting until it was relatively short at least compared to Alastor Moody's mane of gray. The wooden leg fell away as a new, whole one grew in its place, and the magical eye that Sarin had found mildly disturbing popped out, rolling across the office floor and looking, still, in all directions (which, Sarin thought, was also mildly disturbing). The changes stopped; an entirely different man was laying there. He was in his early thirties, with pale skin and fair-colored hair.

There were footsteps outside the corridor, as Professors Snape and McGonagall returned, a house-elf that must have been Winky in tow. "Crouch!" Snape exclaimed, stopping in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens," McGonagall said.

The house-elf - Winky - let out a piercing shriek as soon as she saw the man on the floor. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" She flung herself forward onto the unconscious man's chest. "You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!" She was distraught and hysterical.

"He is simply Stunned, Winky. Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?" Snape passed Dumbledore a small vial of clear liquid; obviously, this was the Veritaserum that was to be used for interrogating fake-Moody. Dumbledore forced fake-Moody's mouth open and shook three drops of the liquid into it, then pulled him to a sitting position against the wall. "Ennervate," he said, pointing his wand at the man's chest. He came to, his gaze unfocused and slack. "Do you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Yes," the man muttered.

"I would like you to tell us how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

"My mother saved me," he said in a flat tone. "She knew she was dying, and persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

"Say no more, Master Barty, you is getting your father into trouble!" Winky was trembling.

"The dementors are blind," Barty Crouch junior continued. "They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors. My mother died a short while later in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

"What did your father do, when he had got you home?" Dumbledore asked.

"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed and controlled. My father used a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master and returning to his service."

"How did your father subdue you?" Dumbledore's tone was still quiet.

"The Imperius Curse. I was under his control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the elf. She was my keeper. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats...rewards for my good behavior."

"You isn't ought to tell them! We is getting in trouble," sobbed Winky.

"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive? Did anyone know except your father and Winky?"

"Yes. A witch in my father's office, Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with paperwork for my father, and he wasn't at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to me, but Bertha heard the elf talking to me. She came to investigate and heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home, and she confronted him. He put a powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out."

"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup."

"Winky talked my father into it." Crouch was still talking in the same flat, monotonous tone that he had been at the very beginning. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house in years. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him go. He agreed in the end. It was carefully planned. My father led Winky and me up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. No one would ever know."

"But Winky didn't know that I was getting stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods where I seemed outside his control. It happened in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. She's afraid of heights, and had her face hidden."

"So you took the wand, and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," Crouch replied. "Then we heard them. The Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban, had never suffered." Technically, Sarin thought, he wasn't really in Azkaban, at least not for that long of a time. She rolled her eyes, but nobody seemed to notice or care. "They had turned their backs on him. They were free to seek him, but they did not. I was angry. I had the wand, and I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty. My father had left the tent. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic and pulled me from the tent into the forest. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty meant. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky."

So it was all connected, Sarin thought. The Dark Mark, Potter's name in the goblet, Moody's interest in having Potter do well in the second task, Krum performing the Cruciatus...it was all part of the same scheme of things. She had been right.

"Ministry wizards arrived," Crouch continued. "They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. Winky and I were both Stunned. When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry people had left. He put me back under the Imperius and took me home. He dismissed Winky, for she had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand, and nearly let me escape. Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then...and then..." An insane smile lit up his features.

"My master came for me."

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**Well...this was getting long, at least for the amount of words I usually have in this fic's chapters, so I decided to end it there. Thanks for reading and please review!**

**-lunalestrange4**


	30. Chapter 30, Veritaserum, Part Two

Disclaimer: I think we've been through this enough. JK Rowling owns all.

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"My master came for me," Crouch repeated. The insane smile, making him look quite deranged, was still on his lips. "He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him that the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all."

Sarin couldn't help but think that her parents would have something to say to that, although she did not mention it. Crouch continued, "My master conceived a plan based on the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door." He seemed even more insane and yet pleased as the tale rolled off his tongue, like he was getting to a good part. "It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act like nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years."

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him, and I was. It was my dream, my greatest ambition to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person - or people - " here he glanced briefly at Sarin - "to touch it to my master. But first..."

"You needed Alastor Moody." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but his eyes were blazing a cold blue fire.

"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle, and there was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time and forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. I took some of his hair and added it to the potion, which I drank, becoming Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around in my yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk, and set off for Hogwarts."

"I kept him alive." Crouch seemed less excited now that the part about his father and his master was done. "Under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past and learn his habits so that I could fool even you, Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole them from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" Dumbledore prodded.

"He returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," Dumbledore said.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry. He made my father write and tell them he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty - he was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading to Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything and confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban. My master sent word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I watched and waited. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" Sarin asked, confused.

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father because we have the same name. I told him that Bartemius Crouch hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape. For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my invisibility cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him."

That was what that had been all about, Sarin realized. It had been a topic of discussion for a few weeks following the incident, discussed in any manner of ways as to why Bartemius Crouch would attack Viktor Krum before randomly disappearing. This was why. She turned her attention back to the man sitting in front of them all, wanting to hear the rest of the story. This was why everything had been odd this year.

"Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."

"Noooooo," wailed the house-elf. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said in the same calm voice. "What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape, and Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them and went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to go. Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body and watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone. I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

The house-elf was still sobbing, but apart from that there was complete silence for a few moments before Dumbledore said, "And tonight?"

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," Crouch whispered. "I turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power, and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards." The insane smile lit his features once more, as the pathetic-sounding house-elf Winky sobbed and wailed by his side.

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**Well, there you have it! Thank you for reading, and...wow, there's not going to be a whole lot of chapters after this. I can't say for sure how many are left, but it won't be long now. Please leave a review :)**

**-lunalestrange4**


	31. Chapter 31, Meeting and Retelling

Disclaimer: Am I a published author? No. Therefore, Harry Potter is not mine.

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Professor Dumbledore stared down at Barty Crouch Junior for a moment before raising his wand, causing ropes to fly out of it and bind themselves around the man on the floor. He turned then to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Sarin upstairs?"

"Of course," replied the Transfiguration teacher. She drew out her wand as well, keeping it ready by her side in the unlikely event of Barty breaking free of his ropes.

"Severus," Dumbledore said next, "please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here. We need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down to the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him into this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in a while's time if he needs me." Snape nodded, sweeping out of the room in complete silence. Lastly, Dumbledore turned to Potter and Sarin. "Come," he said gently. The two students followed him out of Moody's office and towards the Headmaster's office, the staircase of which lay behind a stone gargoyle. Dumbledore murmured the password and it sprang aside, allowing the three access to the moving spiral staircase that led upwards. Dumbledore opened the door to reveal a man standing there.

Sirius Black.

Sarin had heard of him, seen his picture; how could she not? He had escaped from Azkaban in the summer between her fourth and fifth year, managing to remain not captured the whole time since then. The feat itself was impressive, but that did not make the fact that he was standing in Dumbledore's office any less random or unnerving. "What - why is Sirius Black here?"

"He was framed," Dumbledore said, "and there is a whole complex tale of it, but it is getting late. I will leave it there and say that he is indeed innocent, no matter what anybody else says."

Sirius was looking at Sarin in the same way she was looking at him: shock. "You...Bellatrix had a daughter?"

"Yes," Sarin said.

"You greatly resemble her," he admitted.

"Thank you," she replied proudly, taking a seat alongside Potter on one side of Dumbledore's desk. The headmaster then proceeded to tell Sirius of what Barty Crouch had revealed under Veritaserum. Sarin only half-listened, as she not only had just heard all this, but it was getting quite late. The events of the night caught up to her, and she leaned her head back against the chair, vaguely noticing Potter doing the same. She had stayed up much later than this previously, as some of the Slytherin common-room parties had lasted until close to dawn, but there was a great difference between staying up late partying, and staying up late because the Dark Lord had risen again. Definitely a large difference.

When Dumbledore had finished telling the story he turned to the two almost-dozing students sitting at the chairs. He sat down across from them. "I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze," he said, looking from one to the other.

"We can leave that until morning, can't we?" Sirius said harshly. "Let him - them - have some sleep. They need rest."

"If I thought I could help you by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You - both of you - have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."

They began to tell the story, their words overlapping one another. Eventually they worked out a rhythm, where they were pausing occasionally to allow the other one to speak. The two adults in the room said nothing, at least until they got to the point about Wormtail cutting Potter - oh, what the hell, _Harry, _they had been through so much together - with the dagger. Sirius let out a vehement exclamation that would have caused points deducted were he a student and in class, and Dumbledore stood up, telling Harry to stretch out his arm. "He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used somebody else's," Harry said. "He said the protection my mother left in me, he'd have it to. And he was right, he could touch me without hurting himself. He touched my face."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, carefully examining the cut, which had stopped bleeding, before sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Continue, please."

They did, telling the tale of Voldemort's rebirth, of the Death Eaters coming, and then of when Voldemort and Harry dueled and their wands connected. It was there that they were once interrupted. "The wands connected?" Sirius Black asked. "Why?"

"Priori Incantatem," Dumbledore muttered.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" Sirius' voice was sharp.

"Exactly. Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact." He pointed to his own phoenix, which had settled on Harry's lap. "Your wand's feather came from Fawkes. Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

"So what happens when a wand meets its...brother?" Sarin asked.

"They will not work properly against each other," the headmaster replied. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle, a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed, in reverse. The most recent first, and then those that preceded it. Which means, some form of his last spells would have appeared."

"An old man," Harry said. "Bertha Jorkins. And...my parents. All shadowy, almost like ghosts...but more solid, somehow."

"The last murders the wand performed." Dumbledore nodded. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, if you had maintained the connection. Very well, these echoes, these shadows...what did they do?"

This part of the telling was mostly Harry's, as this was when Sarin had simply stood near the Portkey Cup, waiting to see if Potter survived. As a result this, how Voldemort had seemed to fear the shadows, and what they had said, was all new, and Sarin listened with interest, although she realized in the back of her mind that she was still extremely tired. At one point she might actually have dozed, though, or at least zoned out, for when she snapped back to it Dumbledore was speaking. "I will say it again. You two have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected tonight. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have seen things no student should have to ever see. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want either of you returning to your dormitories tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace. Sirius, would you like to stay with Harry?"

Sirius transformed, right in the middle of the headmaster's office, into a great black dog. _So Sirius Black is an Animagus, _she realized sleepily, and had this been in the middle of the day, and not after all that had happened, it might have surprised her more. The dog followed them down to the hospital wing. Sarin still didn't realize why he was there; why did he have such an interest in Harry Potter? This was a question that, although certainly something she was curious about, could definitely wait until morning. The prospect of a bed, even if it was in the hospital wing, was extremely enticing.

Dumbledore pushed open the door to the hospital wing to see two groups of people. One was obviously for Harry, including three Weasleys and the Mudblood girl who had gone with Krum to the Yule Ball. The other one, comprised of Ryan, Evanna, Risa, and Mimi, was for Sarin. Both students started to go over to their respective groups, but the headmaster stopped them. "Please listen to me for a moment," he said, more to the assembled people than to Sarin and Harry. "They have been through an ordeal tonight. They have just had to relive it. What they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, her eyes on the Sirius-dog, "may I ask what the dog is doing here?"

"He will be remaining with Harry for a while," said Dumbledore simply. "I assure you he is extremely well-trained. I will be back to see you two as soon as I have met with Fudge. I would like for you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school."

Madam Pomfrey led first Harry then Sarin each to a bed, pulling the screens around them for privacy. Sarin's pajamas were on the bed, probably courtesy of one of the girls from her dormitory, and she got undressed and put them on, throwing herself eagerly under the covers. She was given a few mouthfuls of a Dreamless Sleep Potion from Madam Pomfrey, and then, exhausted, she instantly fell into the comforting embrace of sleep.

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**Well...there's Sarin and Sirius meeting, which was something I was looking forward to writing. Thanks so much for reading and please review!**

**-lunalestrange4**


	32. Chapter 32, The Parting Of the Ways

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing around with the characters.

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Sarin woke up a little while later to the sound of loud voices. She stretched and rolled over in an attempt to fall back to sleep, but the voices were too loud and grating for such a thing to happen. Glancing to the bed beside hers she saw Harry, too, awake, also looking like he didn't want to be. They both listened to the arguing voices. The first was a male's voice - it sounded familiar, but in her bleary state she could not identify who it was. "Regrettable," the man said, "but all the same, Minerva -"

"You never should have brought it inside the castle!" Professor McGonagall's voice was even louder. "When Dumbledore finds out -"

"Where's Dumbledore?" The man who had previously spoken strode into Sarin's line of vision, and she recognized it as Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. McGonagall was right behind him, looking more upset than ever before.

"He's not here," the red-haired woman by the foot of Harry's bed said. She was obviously the Weasley mother by the looks of her. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to -"

The door to the hospital wing opened and Dumbledore himself strode inside. "What has happened? Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you. I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch."

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore," she shrieked, trembling with fury. Her hands were balled into fists, and her normally neat gray hair was messy and flyaway. "The Minister has seen to that!"

Snape also entered the hospital wing. "When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events, he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch -"

He was cut off by Professor McGonagall. "I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore! I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but -"

"My dear woman!" Fudge also looked furious. "As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous suspect!" He glared up at Professor McGonagall, who had a few inches on him. It would have been a rather amusing situation were it not for the subject matter.

"The moment that dementor entered the room, it swooped down on Crouch and...and..." McGonagall seemed to be unable to finish her sentence, but Sarin could gather what had happened. Cornelius Fudge had brought a dementor with him when he went to interrogate Barty Crouch. The dementor had then performed the Kiss on him, sucking his soul right out of his body and leaving him an empty shell. Alive, yes, but in no fit state to do anything whatsoever.

"By all accounts," Fudge said, "he is no loss! It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was remaining calm, unlike McGonagall and Fudge, both who were glaring at each other with a childish fury. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it? He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!" Fudge scoffed, about to say more, but Dumbledore spoke.

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions. Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body. He has returned."

Fudge looked dazed. He blinked, staring openly at Dumbledore. "You-Know-Who? Returned...Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you, we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort, learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins, went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry, and in an unexpected twist, Sarin. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return," Dumbledore said.

"See here," Fudge said. "You...you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now...certainly Crouch may have believed himself to be acting on You-Know-Who's orders, but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

"When Harry and Sarin touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, they were transported straight to Voldemort," Dumbledore explained. "They witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office. I am afraid I cannot permit you to question them tonight."

"You are - er - prepared to take the word of two students on this, Dumbledore?" Fudge sounded disbelieving. The Sirius-dog growled at these words, causing the Minister to take a couple steps backwards.

"Certainly I believe them," Dumbledore said, his eyes blazing with the same cold blue fire that had been there during the interrogation of Crouch. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard their account of what happened after they touched the Triwizard Cup. The stories make sense; they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge glanced at Harry, then Sarin, before answering. "You are prepared to believe that You-Know-Who has returned on the word of a lunatic murderer, the daughter of two other lunatics, and a boy who...well..."

Sarin glared fiercely at him at his words. If she had been more awake - and if there hadn't been so many people around - she would have pulled out her wand and hexed the Minister of Magic right where it would hurt. Of course, in her still-tired state, and with so many adults around who would no doubt reprimand and possibly punish her for such a thing, she decided against it. It was a tempting thought, however.

Harry didn't seem to appreciate the Minister's opinion, either. From his words, Cornelius Fudge seemed to think that Harry Potter was not a reliable source. "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," the boy said quietly. Sarin hadn't bothered to read much coverage of the Tournament herself, but she had heard that the _Daily Prophet _reporter Rita Skeeter wrote about Harry as, well, a bit unstable.

"And if I have?" he replied defiantly. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh?" Sarin glanced quickly over at Harry, who nodded slightly. "And having funny turns all over the place..."

"I assume you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" Dumbledore said coolly.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" Fudge said quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly...hallucinations?"

"Listen to me," Dumbledore said, taking a step towards the Minister. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains, just as Sarin is no less trustworthy just because of who her parents are."

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. "I saw the Death Eaters, I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy - Macnair - Avery - Nott - Crabbe - Goyle -"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" Fudge said angrily, color rising in his cheeks. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore, the boy can talk to snakes, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried, stating what everyone was thinking but nobody had said. "Mr. Crouch's death...Bertha Jorkins' disappearance...these were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" Fudge yelled back, matching her anger. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years."

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors - "

"Preposterous! Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office just for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban," Fudge shouted.

"The rest of us sleep less soundly, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters -" here Dumbledore's eyes flicked to Sarin before returning to stare at the Minister "- in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them. They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge. Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can. With the dementors behind him and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago! The second step you must take, and at once, is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late, or Voldemort will persuade them as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedoms!"

"You - you cannot be serious." He backed away from Dumbledore, shaking his head. "If the magical community got wind that I approached the giants...people hate them, Dumbledore...end of my career."

"You are blinded," Dumbledore said, his voice finally rising after many minutes of being calm. "by the love of the office you hold. You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood. You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as the Malfoys or Lestranges, but look what that man chose to make of his life. I tell you now, take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act, and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild. If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. I too shall act as I see fit."

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," Fudge replied, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what you teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me - "

"The only one against whom I intend to work," Dumbledore said, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

Fudge rocked backward and forward, spinning his bowler hat in his hands. "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be."

Snape strode forward then, yanking up the left sleeve of his robes and sticking his forearm in front of Fudge's face. "There," Snape said harshly. "The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour ago, when it burned black, nut you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate instantly by his side. This mark has been growing clearer all year; Karkaroff's, too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

The Minister stepped back from him, too, shaking his head. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry." He had almost reached the door when he paused, grabbing two large bags from the area beside the door and walking back over. One was dropped on Sarin's bedside table, one on Harry's. "Your winnings. One thousand Galleons each. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..." He crammed his hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door with finality.

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**Ooh, long chapter! Merry Christmas to all my readers who celebrate it. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	33. Chapter 33, Preparations

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I don't. And is this really necessary on every damn chapter?

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"There is work to be done," Dumbledore said to the group around Harry's bed, glancing at the door which the Minister of Magic had just slammed shut only a few seconds prior. "Molly, am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," the Weasley mother replied. She was extremely pale, but had a determined look on her face. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," Dumbledore replied. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well-placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," said one of the Weasley boys. He was definitely the oldest; from the looks of him, he was in his twenties. "I'll go now." He stood up.

"Excellent. Tell him what has happened, and that I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry - "

"Leave it to me," Weasley replied. He strode out of the room. The only people left in the room were the ones assembled around Harry's bed. _ The other Slytherins must have left while I was sleeping, _Sarin thought. She hadn't been asleep for very long, but that was the only thing that could have happened. They hadn't stayed because Dumbledore had said that nobody was allowed to interrogate the two champions that night, and they certainly would have wanted to. Not to mention that she had fallen asleep almost instantly - what point would there have been to them staying? She would have done the same thing in their situation, and she knew this, but that didn't stop her from feeling a pang of irritation that Harry Potter's bed was practically surrounded, and hers was empty. Oh well. All the better to eavesdrop.

"Minerva." Dumbledore turned to face McGonagall. "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible, and, if she will consent to come, Madame Maxime." Professor McGonagall nodded at him and left, decreasing the number again. "Poppy," he then said, looking at Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her down to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very - very well," Madam Pomfrey replied, looking a bit confused, and also leaving the room.

"And now," Dumbledore said, "it is time for us to recognize one of our number for who he truly is. Sirius, if you could resume your usual form."

The Sirius-dog, which had been sitting next to Harry's bedside protectively, turned back into a man within two seconds. Mrs. Weasley shrieked, jumping back. "Sirius Black!"

"Mum, shut up!" yelled the youngest Weasley boy, the one who had hung around Potter all year and had been his thing-that-mattered-most in the Black Lake. "It's okay."

Snape also looked horrified, although not fearful. His expression was one of mingled fury and horror as he stared at Sirius. "Him!" Sirius' face showed the same dislike. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," Dumbledore said, looking from one to the other. "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other." This, Sarin thought, was a lot to ask. Both men were staring at one another in open hatred and loathing. Dumbledore just seemed impatient with them. "I will settle in the short term for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us." Sirius and Snape, still glaring at one another, quickly shook hands, although they let go almost instantly and still did not seem pleased with the whole situation. "That will do to be going on with. Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, although not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher...the old crowd. Lie low at Remus' for a while. I will contact you there."

Sirius nodded and transformed into the black dog once again, bounding out the door. Harry stared after him with a curious expression on his face. Sarin couldn't help but wonder, once again, how those two knew each other. What would a fourth-year Gryffindor Golden Boy have to do with an escaped convict? An innocent escaped convict...but still.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape. "You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..."

"I am," Snape said. His face looked pale, more so than usual, and his dark eyes glittered strangely.

"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, watching as the younger man swept wordlessly out of the room. Sarin was extremely tempted to ask what that was all about, but decided that it might be better not to know. The headmaster stayed for a few more minutes before bidding the others farewell. "I must head up to my office," he said. "There are things I must discuss with Hagrid and Madame Maxime. I will see you all later." Then he, too, left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said. "You have a good long sleep. Try to think of something else for a while."

These were good instructions, and both Harry and Sarin picked up their respective cups and drank. Instantly waves of drowsiness overcame Sarin, and she carefully placed the now-empty cup back on the end table, right next to her bag of Galleons, before falling again into the blissful quiet of sleep.

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**Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrated it! And wow...almost 2012 already. Yikes. Anyhow, thanks for reading...not long until the end, my lovely readers! Please review.**


	34. Chapter 34, Reunion and Discussion

Disclaimer: I think we've been through this enough. JK Rowling owns all.

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Sarin was released from the hospital wing, along with Harry, the following afternoon. They split up to go to their respective common rooms, and as Sarin entered hers she saw the other sixth-year Slytherins gathered together: Mimi, Risa, Evanna, Ryan, Montague, Warrington, and Pucey. She sat down on the Champion's Chair, setting the bag of Galleons at her feet. It was nice to finally be back there, even though she hadn't even been gone a full day. It seemed like such a long time had passed, what with the third task, the Dark Lord's rebirth, Crouch's interrogation, Fudge's disbelief, all the preparations...crammed all into the space of several hours, although it had felt like much longer.

"Are you alright?" Evanna asked. "Dumbledore said at breakfast that we shouldn't interrogate the champions about what happened, which only served to peak everyone's curiosity even further."

"I'm fine," Sarin replied. It was the truth. "I wasn't injured or anything; but a lot happened last night, that's for sure."

"Everybody was worried," Ryan said. "At the third task - well, the Beauxbatons champion got out pretty quickly. Then Krum, he was unconscious when the red sparks were sent up. Once it was down to just you and Potter, I thought that it wouldn't take a whole lot more time, but it took...probably an hour or two, I didn't have a watch on. Then when you randomly appeared, the two of you clutching the Triwizard Cup, and Moody pulled you two away from the crowd almost instantly...it was weird. Shouldn't there have been some sort of announcement that you won, or something?" He glanced at the bag of Galleons.

"We both won," Sarin corrected him. "We took the Cup at the same time. It was a Portkey, and it transported us away from the maze to some random graveyard. A man was there, and he tied us up, and..." She paused. "This is where the story gets rather outrageous. I know it's going to sound unbelievable and absurd."

"Just tell us!" Risa leaned forward in anticipation.

"He performed some ancient Dark ritual. He made a potion and...well, I don't know the logistics of it, but the potion that he created in the ritual resurrected the Dark Lord. Who wasn't really dead, but some sort of spirit - like a ghost, really, but could possess people. Remember the Quirrell fiasco a couple years ago? That was the Dark Lord's doing."

"I heard rumors about that," Risa said levelly. "Not that I ever put a whole lot of stock into them, but I remember that. It was supposedly some huge secret, so naturally, the whole student body knew about it."

"Then the Dark Lord and Harry Potter dueled," Sarin continued. "We managed to escape soon after, due to some strange effect that happened between their two wands that created shadowy figures - Priori Incantatem, I think Dumbledore called it. The Triwizard Cup brought us back to Hogwarts - that's when we appeared in front of the maze. Moody took us to his office, but it wasn't really Moody. It was Barty Crouch junior, and he was also a servant of the Dark Lord's, working under his orders the whole time. He wanted to kill Harry because he thought it would increase his favor with his master. Then Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape burst in and gave him Veritaserum, interrogating him."

"Do you honestly expect us to believe that?" Mimi scoffed. "The Dark Lord's back, and Moody isn't Moody, but the son of some Ministry official? Really, that is incredibly unbelievable and absurd. How much attention do you _need, _Lestrange? Did you and Potter coordinate this little story in the maze, as an effort to make you two even more famous? Merlin, you two were in the Triwizard Tournament! He's the Boy-Who-Lived, and you're the daughter of two Azkaban lunatics. Do you and him really need any more publicity?"

"Shut up," Sarin and Evanna said at the same time, but it was Evanna who continued. "You're just being ridiculous. Why would Sarin make up something like that? It would make her sound crazy if it was spread around. They could probably throw her in St. Mungo's on the basis of insanity!"

"Yup, right next to the Longbottoms," Sarin muttered dryly.

"I'll admit your story is pretty farfetched," Ryan said. "But I, for one, don't think that you would make something up just to garner publicity for yourself. I believe you." He shot her a quick smile, and she vaguely thought that they had to have a proper reunion somewhere, away from the rest of the Slytherin sixth years. Perhaps in their special clearing...

She snapped back to attention as Mimi stood up. "I'm glad you're not dead, Lestrange, but I do think that you're an attention whore. Risa, come." She swept out of the room. Risa followed her, shooting Sarin an apologetic look as she, too, left. Whatever Risa thought did not matter to Mimi, obviously.

"Come on, Sarin," Ryan said. "Let's go somewhere else."

Sarin nodded, and they sneaked out of the castle to their clearing in the forest. They stayed there for a while, kissing and touching like they hadn't seen each other in a year, instead of a day, and when they finally went to dinner, they were both a little disheveled. Sarin slid into a seat next to Evanna, who grinned. "How was your _real _reunion?"

Sarin rolled her eyes. "You're too nosy, Evanna Fawcett."

"So something did happen..."

"Jealous?" Sarin responded airily, a teasing note in her voice.

"Hey, you have the one boy in our year who actually has some functioning brain cells." She rolled her eyes at Pucey, Montague, and Warrington. "I have no idea how they're going to be able to find anyone to marry after graduation. I'm pretty sure women like men, not trolls."

She laughed. It felt good just to joke around with a friend about boys. It was so light and carefree, compared to the events of the previous night. This was such a normal activity - looking around the Great Hall, she could see many people smiling, conversing with the person they were sitting next to. It was nice to get back into that. The Triwizard Tournament was over; there was no more worrying or puzzling out what to do for the task. The rest of the year, the few weeks they had left, would be completely normal.

These few weeks were relatively normal, minus the stress of studying for exams. Thanks to her participation in the Tournament she had been exempt from finals; instead, her essays and other course work through the year, not to mention the tasks from the Tournament, allowed her to pass sixth year. As a result she was relaxed while everybody else in the castle was in a frenzy those last couple weeks, trying to cram as much information into their heads as they could. It was a lovely feeling not having to bother with cramming for the upcoming finals.

The news about what had happened after the third task had not been spread around. Apparently Mimi, the one person whom Sarin expected to tell the whole school, did not want to face the annoyance and wrath of Sarin along with Ryan and Evanna, who had easily become her closest confidants. So although a few people did look curiously at Sarin, and a few of the younger students tried to pester her, for the most part the other students obeyed Dumbledore's instruction to not question the two champions about what had occurred.

Between the lack of exams, Sarin's newfound closeness with Ryan and Evanna, and the thousand-Galleon prize, it was the perfect ending to a tumultuous year.

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**IT ISN'T OVER, despite how the last sentence seems. There will be either one or two more chapters following this one. Thank you for reading, and though I love seeing that people favorited or alerted my story, I urge you to REVIEW! I want to know what you think, dear readers!**

-**lunalestrange4**


	35. Chapter 35, The Ending

Disclaimer: Everything is JK Rowling's. But you already know that.

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The time until the Leaving Feast passed in a blur. Sarin's trunk was packed and waiting in the dormitory for the train ride. She made her way down to the Great Hall with Evanna and Ryan, and the three of them took seats together at the Slytherin table. The hall wasn't decorated with the winning House's colors, to Sarin's surprise. Perhaps Dumbledore found such a thing too trivial compared to what had taken place. She glanced up at the staff table. The real Mad-Eye Moody was there, although he seemed extremely twitchy. Being locked in a trunk would no doubt have increased his already-present paranoia.

Igor Karkaroff was not there, although his students were. The other foreign Head, Madame Maxime, had stayed, and was presently talking to Hagrid. Their heads were bowed close together as they discussed something, perhaps whatever Dumbledore had wanted to see them about on that fateful night of the third task. Further along the table was Snape, who looked even more sour than usual. Sarin couldn't help but wonder, seeing him, what he had done that night on Dumbledore's orders. He had the Dark Mark, after all...perhaps he had gone back to Voldemort. Maybe he was some sort of spy, although she couldn't imagine how anybody could have the balls to do such a thing. Spying on Voldemort was probably not the most genius of ideas.

"The end," Dumbledore said, "of another year. There is much I would like to tell you tonight. You have all heard that something happened on the night of the third task, something you were asked not to interrogate our champions about. I think that you have the right, though, to know what happened. Lord Voldemort has risen again."

Murmurs swept through the hall. People stared at the Headmaster in shock and horror; on the faces of some were outright disbelief. It seemed that the students were divided on whether Dumbledore was telling the truth or whether he was insane. Sarin was rather surprised that he was sharing this news, after he had told the student body not to ask her and Harry about it. It annoyed her, somewhat - now, no matter what, she would indeed have to deal with people's questioning, as once they had gotten on the train there were few people there to prevent them from doing so. She wondered if her and Ryan could prevent people from coming into their train compartment, and was running through a list of spells in her head when Dumbledore spoke again.

"The Ministry of Magic does not wish for me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so, either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you, as young as some of you are. It is my belief, however, that truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that he is not back will not end well." He paused before speaking again. "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened, such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime, to the Beauxbatons students sitting with the Ravenclaw table, to the Durmstrang students sitting at the Slytherin table. Krum looked wary as Dumbledore spoke, as if expecting him to say something harsh. Sarin had been beyond pissed off at him after the incident during the third task - after all, who wouldn't be mad that they were Cruciated? - but had grudgingly admitted to herself that it hadn't been her fault, but Barty Crouch Junior's. Krum had kept away from her, though, as if worried that she would attack him in retaliation. It amused her slightly - perhaps he had heard of her parents' reputation?

Her musings were cut short by Dumbledore's voice. "Every guest in this hall will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again, in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading enmity and discord is great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open. It is my belief, and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken, that we are facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this hall have already suffered directly as a result of Voldemort's last rise to power. Many of your families have been torn asunder." He looked directly at the student body. "I urge you, if you ever have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember these families that have been ruined. Remember those who have fallen." He sat down. "That is all."

The plates of food appeared in front of the students, and as Sarin dug in she could hear Mimi's voice, a couple people down. "So now Dumbledore's in on it, too. Well," she humphed, "this is proof that he's finally going barmy. I've suspected for a while, you know, but this just proves it. I'll be talking to people, certainly - my parents are relatively high up in the Ministry of Magic, and perhaps they could get this Muggle-loving old fool replaced with someone competent. I suppose it's not all Lestrange's fault, then...Dumbledore probably told her and Potter this story, and -"

Sarin rolled her eyes. "Do you hear her?" she muttered to Evanna, who was in closer proximity to Mimi.

"Yes. She's being completely ridiculous, as far as I care. You'd do well to not listen to her. What she says is of no concern. You should know that by now - you've learned to ignore all her jibes about your parents, that's for sure."

"True," Sarin responded. "She's downright annoying, that's what she is."

Evanna nodded, her mouth too full of food to be able to reply in words. Sarin ate as well, looking around the Great Hall. She would miss this place, as sentimental as it was. No matter that she would be coming back for her seventh year - she would miss it. There were so many memories here, after all, both good and bad. She loved Hogwarts, although she'd never admit it for fear of sounding sappy. This was her true home, at least for now, at least until she graduated and got her own place. This was where her most important memories were. But what would change? With the Dark Lord back, with Mimi trying her hardest to get Dumbledore kicked out...what would happen for her next year? Hell, what would happen after?

"Things are going to change," Sarin muttered, not intending for anyone to hear. "Nothing will ever be the same." Maybe it would affect her, these changes. Maybe it wouldn't. She knew she had a little more security than some people - she certainly wasn't going to go around killing off Death Eaters and preaching against Voldemort, and neither were her parents - she snorted at that thought. Many of these other students didn't have that security. She was relatively lucky, at least compared to some people. She vaguely wondered how long Harry Potter would last. No doubt the Dark Lord wouldn't stop going after him. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, anyway, and he had gotten away from Voldemort three times already - when he was a baby, the whole Quirrell fiasco, and now this. Didn't things come in threes? How much longer would he have?

She shook herself away from those thoughts. It didn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. She would be safe. She was Sarin Lestrange. But right now, there was no need to worry. She was with the two people whom she was closest to, the two people whom she might just actually care about, and right then and there, that was all that mattered to her. Not the Dark Lord's returning, or the fact that Harry Potter would probably die within the next few years, or anything. Just the friendships that had flourished during this crazy, wild year. She had a best friend and a boyfriend, although she doubted she'd ever use either term out loud. It was, at least for her, a happy ending.

* * *

**Oh my God...I'm done. I'm actually done this fanfiction. This is at present the longest thing I've ever written, and I'm pretty happy with it. I'd like to thank all my reviewers - you helped me to keep going on this. Also all the people who have favorited or alerted this story - at least I know that you like it. I do urge everyone who's gotten this far to REVIEW, though. This is the last chapter, and this story is now officially over. **

**Love you all.**

**-lunalestrange4**


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